Snooze Button
by wingedmessanger
Summary: Five times Steve helps his team to sleep in and the one time they help him.
1. Unplugged

**A/N: Okay, I got this idea from another story idea I want to do. I usually hit the snooze button, whenever I can, so I thought that the Avengers should have one too! I mean honestly, they fight for NEW YORK, deal with Fury, are a large band of misfits, go on all kinds of weird missions for S.H.I.E.L.D., and they are never (with maybe the exception of Tony) seen sleeping in. So, I did this. And Steve is my favorite out of all the Avengers, so he will be in every one of these chapters, just cause.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers in any way, shape, or form. Sighs…**

Natasha

To say Natasha that is tired is an understatement.

She had been running many of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s errands for the past week or two and it was getting to the point that she barely remembered what day it was. Nat was tired, exhausted even. At the moment, the super spy was just lying down in the bed at the Avengers Tower, waiting for the alarm clock to go off. Sleep had eluded her for so long, due to the last mission that her body just refused to rest.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had her go to some third world country to help the people there with a water system problem that the authorities couldn't handle. However, it was later discovered that the reason behind the water problem had a direct connection to the countries Prime Minister. Said man, had had an affair with a rebel gang leader's wife. So as punishment the group attacked the system by dumping gallons of toxic waste and fertilizer into the clean water tanks outside the capital.

It took Natasha **five** extra days to find the gang, dispatch them, and then figure out a way to purify the water. S.H.I.E.L.D. figured out the latter, but Natasha was still put in a position where she had to lead almost half of the country into a safe area with clean water!

There was even one incident where she had a two year old clinging to her leather uniform on her hip, and a five year putting a death grip on her hand as they ran for their lives to escape gun fire. If it were possible, she would have left the kids in a general safe spot to go and kill the men trying to turn them into Swiss cheese, but the wailing toddler was not willing to let go of her. So having no other option, Natasha ran for her life with the kids in tow.

Tasha rolled onto her back from her side and winced as the pressure was alleviated from her broken ribs. Those only being one of the few injuries she had suffered. When Natasha came to the tower at some God forsaken hour last night, the entire team was there and waited for her. Truth be told, seeing all of them there sitting in the living room or at the bar, brought a shadow of a smile on the more than dead beat spy's face. Before she had arrived at the place she now called home, S.H.I.E.L.D. had to debrief her and get a rather long and unnecessary report on the mission.

This just pissed off the Russian spy because they knew all along what was going on between the correspondence, land crew, bomb squads, Special Forces, the country's police, undercover agents, and the ever present S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Midway through the hour and a half interview, Natasha just wanted to tell Fury to stuff it so she could go home. She had already stayed there a week longer than was necessary due to the gangs, so why subject herself to even more torture at the hands of a one eyed trench coat loving Fury!

She blinked up at the ceiling, bandaged hands resting delicately on her stomach. The white ceiling had many ridges in it that made it easy for the assassin to connect the raised bumps like stars. Some of them even resembled the constellations that Natasha remembered seeing in Russia. But that was all she did.

Back against a soft bed, blankets only up to her waist, loaded Walther Arms PK380 Semiautomatic Centerfire Pistol under her pillow, hands on her stomach, body a throbbing bruise, and tired green eyes that just seemed to stare up at the speckled ceiling as if it were a night sky.

Steve is always the first one up in the tower. He was pretty sure it had something to do with his training in the army, but at the same time, Steve never really got a good night's sleep anyway. Too much had changed in the world for that to ever happen and the bonus nightmares he would get from the ice didn't help either. So, on a morning like this, Steve got out of bed-because he never really went to sleep anyway- and got ready for the day.

It was early, and he hoped that Tony had somehow found a way to his room in the middle of the night. Everyone stayed up for the past week waiting for their missing family member to come home. She was due back a week ago, so everyone was antsy when Natasha didn't come up the elevator shaft with a prep in her step and smirking slightly. When that day became two, then four, then seven, everyone was practically in panic mode. There had been more than one instance where Steve had to physically manhandle Clint back to the tower- _with_ the _help_ of Thor!

Everyone was freaking out so much that Fury almost blew his casket and actually had to _try_ to get the Avengers out of Head Quarters.

Once they got home, Clint was pacing back and forth on the living room carpet in his sweats and an old wife beater. Tony was at the bar drinking Lord-knows-what and Pepper keeping him company. Bruce was sitting at the table, poking at a Stark Pad hands a very slight shade of green. And he and Thor were sitting on the couch watching Barton pace and ready to spring up if the man tried to run out of the building. The more they stayed there in their own thoughts, the more the tension built up in the room.

Whatever conversation took place was strained and didn't last long and it was driving the man crazy! If he wanted quite, there were several places in the Tower that were built with sound proof walls. Hulk's playground being one of them! The tension was so think that Tony's repulors could burn through it!

Steve was brought out of his quiet ranting as Clint stopped pacing and made a mad dash for the elevator doors. He and Thor were up in the blink of an eye to try and tackle the eager bird as he stood in front of the elevator like a socially deprived puppy. When the two blondes tried to lay hands on him, all Clint said was, "She's here! She's here! Let me go!"

They immediately relinquished their hold, but never left either side of Clint. Thor looked over at Steve as Clint did something that looked like a pee-pee dance as the floor numbers went up. "Has Lady Natasha decided to make her entrance?" Thor's usually bellowing voice was softer than, well, usual. Steve would have missed his words if it weren't for his serum enhanced hearing.

"Yeah, I hear her coming up the elevator. Now shut up!" Clint spoke to Thor. He wasn't trying to be rude, they all understood that, but it was a little odd see the sniper so antsy. When the elevator doors opened to reveal a tired and bruised Natasha Romanoff in casual clothes, leaning against the elevator wall, and duffel bag over her shoulder, Clint practically pounced on her.

He eased the bag from her shoulder to his and brought the Black Widow into a firm, but soft hug. And to everyone else's surprise she hugged him back. Then Natasha's knees buckled underneath her and if it weren't for the fact that Clint was holding her, she would have fallen to the floor.

Clint stood there holding an exhausted Widow and her duffle in the elevator, he looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with Steve. He instantly knew what was needed and approached the two, trying to walk as quietly as possible to not disturb Natasha. Steve eased the duffel off of Clint's shoulder and started to carry it to Natasha's room with Clint carrying Natasha not far behind. The team followed them and waited outside the door as Clint put her in the bed and Bruce checked her for any threatening injuries. Steve placed the duffel on the dresser for Nat to empty later and went to stand by the Thor and Tony.

Once Bruce deemed that she was alright, he left her side just as Clint pulled over one of the chairs in the room to be beside her bed. Tony, Thor, and Bruce, went their separate ways after hearing that she was alright and had only needed sleep, but Steve remained in the door post. He waited for Clint to get settled in the chair and prop his sock covered feet on the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving Tasha, before closing the door silently behind him.

Yes, last night no one really got sleep. So Steve wasn't really surprised to see the team the way they were when he got to the kitchen. Tony was on the couch playing with one of his Stark Pads. Bruce was drink-what Steve assumed was- tea and reading the newspaper. Thor was raiding the pantry for poptarts, and Clint had his head on the table and looked to be asleep.

He heard all of the shuffling and stumbling to the kitchen earlier that morning, after his shower and workout. So, to actually see them in the various states of exhaustion and boredom brought a smile to his face. They all cared for each other, even if they had different ways of showing it.

Steve fully stepped into the room and looked over everyone curiously. "Does anyone want pancakes?"

Tony's head shot over to him and nodded eagerly. "Oh yeah! Can you put blueberries in mine?"

The corners of Steve's mouth went up in the hint of a smile, and he nodded to Tony. "Thor, Bruce, Clint? You want fruit in yours too?" he asked as he went into the kitchen and started to get all of his ingredients.

Thor stopped rummaging through the pantry and looked at Steve digging through the refrigerator. "Yes, Friend Steve! I will have these so called pancakes!" Thor's bellowing voice made Steve wince as it echoed in the fridge.

Bruce spoke up next, "Sure, can I have apples in mine?" Everyone looked over at the scientist with various levels of disgust and Clint raised his head.

"Really? Apples? That doesn't sound very good."

Bruce shrugged," I like it, and it make the pancakes sweet enough to not need syrup. Unless you want the Other Guy to be hyper?"

Clint's eyes widened, Tony shrunk deeper into the couch, and Steve and Thor exchanged worried glances from across the kitchen. Clint slowly nodded his head, eyes never leaving the smirking Banner. "Okay, carry on! Can I have blue berries, Steve?"

Steve absently nodded his head and proceeded to get the rest of the fruit out of the fridge. His hands stopped when they were between the strawberries and the cherries. _Which one did Natasha like again?_ Steve shrugged and pulled out both packages along with two cartons of eggs. Light chatter filled the room as Steve made breakfast. Every now and then his ears would drift in on the conversation. Now they were talking about why the Hulk liked apple cinnamon pancakes and if there was any other fruits he did and didn't like.

Once the food was done, Steve put each of the different pancakes on separate plates and the eggs in one big bowl. Now was time for the tricky part. Steve placed Thor's Tower of Pisa worth of plain pancakes on his head, balanced perfectly. Then he placed Tony's and Clint's blueberries on one arm, arranged Bruce's apple and his plain on the other, before walking over the table where the rest of the team was now gathered. The room fell silent upon Steve's balancing act, before they all started laughing and help their Captain.

Rogers put his plate down and returned to the kitchen to get Natasha's strawberry pancakes and the huge bowl of eggs. It was when he placed her plate on the table that Steve realized that she hadn't come down yet.

"Hey Clint, where's Natasha?"

Upon hearing his name, Clint looked up mouth full of eggs. "I dink she's sweepin'."

Steve brought his eyebrows together. _Why is she still asleep? She normally wakes up when I do?_ Steve was about to ask Clint if she was alright, but they mentally slapped himself. Because if she wasn't, Clint wouldn't be trying to taste Bruce's pancakes right now. Steve left her spot at the table and headed toward the stairs on the other side of the room. "I'll be right back guys." He called over his shoulder and then proceeded to take the stairs two at a time.

He talked to JARVIS on his way up to her floor. "Hey Jarvis? Natasha didn't set her alarm clock right?"

The AI's voice followed him up the passage. "Yes, Captain. Ms. Romanoff, just hit the snooze button not too long ago. Is there anything I can do to assist you?"

Steve jumped up the last four steps and opened the door to the Widow's floor," No, I got it."

He padded lightly down the sun filled hallway and toward Natasha's door. It was ever so slightly ajar as Cap approached. _Clint must have left it open._ He thought as Steve nudged it with his hand, thanking God that hinges weren't squeaky. Walking as quietly as he could into the room. Steve's eyes adjusted to the shaded room and found the small lump underneath the crisp white sheets.

Making sure he could see her red night shirt under the blanket, Steve moved around the bed and to her nightstand. The super soldier looked down at the sleeping face of the infamous Black Widow.

Natasha was laying on her back facing the ceiling. Her green eyes closed to the world and moving slightly under her eyelids. Cream colored hands rested comfortably on her abdomen and the soft blankets surrounding her body. Natasha's vibrant red hair fanned out over the pillow framing her pale face and just touching the shoulders of her night shirt. She was beautiful. Steve watched her chest rise and fall softly in the gentle arms of sleep, all coldness gone from her face leaving a youthful glow. He wished he could see this side of her more, but do to her past, Steve doubted it would not be so for a _long_ time. As a matter of fact, he was almost jealous of how peacefully she slept. He would love to fall back on the pillow and just have one peaceful night, but, Steve being Steve, he pushed those thoughts away and went on with his mission.

He removed his gaze from Natasha and instead glared at the unnecessarily advanced alarm clock on her night table. Seriously! Why do they have to be so complicated? Steve remembered the alarm clocks he used to have during the Great Depression and they were far less complicated! Heck, even his 21st century one that Tony showed him how to use had less buttons! This one had sound effects and many other things that he was afraid to touch!

So Steve did what any other confused person would do to something with technology they didn't know how it worked. He unplugged it.

Steve gently placed the cord down on the floor and then tip toed out of the room, closing the door behind him. He took the stairs again, and knew he was getting close to the kitchen when he heard shouting. Steve chuckled and jogged down the last few steps to join the other guys. The back of mind, still dwindling on his teammates sleeping form.


	2. Off Switch

Bruce

Bruce was sloughed back in the SHIELD stealth jet heading back to base. This was the first time he was able to really relax in the past two months. He was tired, exhausted even! But that wasn't his only concern while in the private plane flying 41, 000 ft. in the air.

He had been out in another third world country trying to help the people there with a supposedly extinct plague. During this time, there was some other infectious disease going on in Africa and certain other parts in the Middle East that needed some more urgent attention. So, when all of the other doctors went overseas to help there, Bruce decided to handle the plague in some quiet village in the middle of South America.

For the past two months, he had been doing everything in his power to ensure the health of the people and to make sure that they had some form of communication if things later went south. Bruce had done everything from treating the sick and elderly to delivering babies within the span of those few weeks.

He was always on his toes and had only managed to get at least four to five hours of sleep between each medical session.

Don't get him wrong, he loved helping people. It was in these situations that Bruce could concentrate on something other than the Other Guy. Helping people was his stress reliever, his yoga, when away from the Tower. Other people who knew of his other half, thought that he was crazy for putting himself in such stressful situations. But what they never understood was how it made him feel to do such things. They never understood just how normal- no, how _human_ \- it made him feel.

This was one way to help him cope with being a destructive green man of rage. This was how he found new ways to manage his heart rate and anger to calm the Hulk. This relieved the burden that the world placed on his shoulders.

The world only saw the Hulk and never the man inside him. When the accident happened, Bruce tried to find ways to end his life, thinking that the monster under his bed would only bring destruction wherever he went. But now, he found a way around the bullet or lethal injection. And all it took was him applying what he already knew, and giving it to those who really needed it.

He laid his throbbing head back on the headrest of the seat, closed his eyes, and listen to the noise around him. The Other Guy didn't like being in tight spaces, especially not planes. Add to that the limited amount of sleep they both had lately, it took Bruce a little more effort to calm the sleepy being. So at the moment, Bruce was trying to find a sound to focus his attention on and hopefully ease the tired giant.

The pilot was in the front talking over the radio and getting permission to land on the launch pad of the helicarrier. The flight attendant was up front with him seeing if he wanted any refreshments, and the TV was talking about some random crap that had happened in New York since he left.

Bruce opened his eyes and without moving his head, diverted his gaze to the television. The screen was showing some kind of elephant, like thing, with tentacles and snake slitted eyes tearing up the city. Now he raised his head and grabbed the remote on the armrest to turn up the volume.

 _"_ _The now acclaimed 'Telephant' has been moved to a top secret location somewhere in the United States government. The Avengers had quite the battle with the creature after it seemingly popped out of now where on Wednesday."_

As Bruce watched, the screen flickered from the news reporter and onto the battle with the Telephant. He slowly began sitting up, getting closer to the TV on the jet's wall. The camera was shaky and blurred out at times, but Bruce could clearly see what was going on. The creature was huge, now seen through the bigger recording. It had a sickly blue and wrinkly skin, which looked to be pulled over nothing but bones. The slanted yellow eyes resembled that of a snake and long curled husks poked out from under its lip. Long gangly tentacles covered almost every available surface of the beast as it billowed and plowed its way through New York. Bruce watched in horror as the creature caused havoc and the news podcaster continued his report.

 _"_ _People on the scene witnessed the Avengers leader, Captain America, being thrown by the beast into several building as if he were the primary target."_

The camera caught one of these moments, and Bruce winced as he saw Steve being hurtled through the air and bouncing off a parked car only to pop off again and resume the fight. Arrows were being shot from some roof top somewhere, followed by Natasha hanging on the one of the many tentacles of the beast. Thor and Tony were tag teaming the giant hitting it with everything they had. Then the screen flipped back to the reporter.

 _"_ _The battle took inevitably three hours and the damage costs went through the roof! How helpful really are the Avengers? Yes, they may protect the city, but they also destroy most of it in the process. No word has come of the state of being of America's Mightiest Heroes, but the state of the city is in shambles. Now, we are going to Diana for the weather. How's it out there-"_

Bruce slacked back against the seat and muted the TV. This had all happened when he was away? Why didn't the team call him in? The Hulk stirred around inside him, sensing the rise in Bruce's anger. He looked down at his trembling hands. When had they turned green?

Bruce closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled out his mouth. _There is no need to get upset. This happened earlier today, so they must have thought that there was no way for me to get to New York that quickly._ Banner thought, once again breathing in and out. Once he felt calm, he opened his eyes and saw that his hands were no longer green. The last thing they needed was for the Other Guy to make an appearance and destroy a SHIELD jet.

He was so caught up in his own world, that he didn't notice the flight attendant standing stock still five feet away. The poor girl looked torn between backing up slowly and screaming. Bruce raised his hands in the national sign for surrender and gave the frightened girl a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, I have him under control now. May I help you?"

The girl still seemed hesitant, but upon seeing his lack of green tint asked him cautiously," D-d-do you want anything?" Her voice went up a few octaves on the last word.

Bruce lowered his hands, but kept his smile. "No, I'm fine. Thank you though, Miss…?"

"Tanya."

"Thank you Ms. Tanya, but I'm good. I do have one question for you though."

The woman tensed but nodded her consent for him to proceed.

"Can I use my phone? Are we at a safe height so that it won't interfere with the jet's frequencies?"

Tanya nodded again. And once Bruce got the information he needed, he told her thank you again and waved her off. The girl practically ran to the other end of the jet, trying to get as far away from him and the Hulk as possible. Bruce sighed then dug through his cargo shorts for the small cell phone in the pocket on his left thigh. _Great, he was only half way through his flight and already scared the flight attendants! Lovely._

Bruce turned on his Stark Phone-not at all his choice, Tony forbade anyone in his Tower to have anything other than Stark material when it came to their cellular devices and appliances- and went to his contacts. He spent all of five minutes trying to find the right person to call on his limited contact list before finding the number he wanted. Hitting the call icon beside the listed name, Bruce put the phone to his ear and used his thumb and index fingers on his free hand to rub at his eyes.

The phone barely rang before a very tired and very irritated voice responded, "Hello? I swear Fury, if you have another fugly creature that you let escape from Area 51, I'm gonna-"

Bruce smiled and let Clint rant about all of the grotesque ways he planned to stalk down and neuter Fury if another alien came to New York. And released his death grip on his eyes.

"Well, actually Clint, although I appreciate the graphic imagery you have spent the last few minutes painting for me, I have other concerns."

Clint went silent on the other line for a moment. "Bruce?"

"Yes, Clint, I'm sorry to disturb you at such time, but I wanted to know why you didn't try to call me in earlier if the team was being attacked?"

"Uhm, well, you see, what happened was…er, TONY?!"

Bruce pulled the phone away from his ear wincing at Clint's shout, before bring it back. There was the sound of shifting sheets, running feet and what was probably the coffee pot shattering before a long string of curses. Bruce listened to the noise and picked at his nails as if he were put on hold.

"Why hello there Brucey!?" Tony said, all too happily. Bruce raised his eye brow at the tone, even if his lab partner couldn't see it.

"Hello, Tony. I'm sure that Clint filled you in?"

"Yeah he did! He also owes me a new coffee pot, too!" Bruce heard snickering on the other line.

"So, why didn't you call in for more back up?"

"That would have been somewhat hard at the moment, especially considering that we were all fighting an elephant from Cirque de freak, trying not to get stepped on, and getting yelled at by Cyclopes. Shall I continue?"

Bruce felt his eye twitch, but whether it was from lack of sleep or dealing with Tony at three in the morning he didn't know. "Fine. But did you all at least go to medical? I saw the footage Tony, that elephant thing looked like it had everyone in a knot."

"Uhm…"

"Tony?' Bruce expected this,' is that a no?"

"We weren't that hurt, Bruce."

Banner sighed. "Your never 'that hurt' Tony. When I get there, I'm gonna get some sleep, then there will be a full medical evaluation for everyone. Got it?!"

"Whatever you say, Jolly Green." Tony's exasperated voice echoed through the line.

Tony hung up. Bruce looked down at the screen and at the blinking number that was Clint's. Why did the Avengers hate going to medical was beyond him, but at the same time, he hated going to medical too. So he really couldn't criticize them. Banner was just glad that they let _him_ treat them!

He leaned back in the leather seat and rubbed his hands down his face. It was three in the morning, his team needed medical attention, he was sleep deprived, the Other Guy was cranky, and he was still in the jet. It was going to be a long day.

Steve heard Bruce come in the Tower around 6: 40 that morning.

Do to the conversation last night- Tony had put it on speaker for the group to hear- everyone scattered like rats to their respective floors to avoid seeing the 'Doctor' until later that day. They had originally planned to wait up for him like they usually did for a teammate coming home from a long mission, but thanks to the news, Clint and Tony's fight about getting the phone, and the obviously tired and cranky Banner, no one wanted to be around for an early morning check-up.

Steve waited up, though. He couldn't sleep. This wasn't unusual, due to the fact that one of his teammates- his family- was not home in the Tower, but it was also contributed to the fact that Steve didn't feel like reliving drowning in the ice again. So despite how much his body craved it, he forced himself to stay awake. Promising his tired mind that maybe he'll take a nap later.

He stood stock still in the entrance to the living room and waited for the elevator door to open. Bruce came out and looked even more ragged than thought possible. There were bags under his dark eyes and despite his newly tanned skin, looked very pale. Dressed in baggy tan cargo shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt, he sauntered into the room and looked around.

The team forgot to turn off the lights in the living room due to their rushing, so Banner could see everything. There were popcorn bowls on the coffee table, surrounded by bottles of water and beer. Pizza boxes laid empty and open on the carpeted floor. And blankets and pillows took the place of the absent team in various heaps and piles on every available piece of floor and furniture.

Steve cursed mentally at the mess they had made, but it was either that or Dr. Banner.

Bruce sighed and brought a hand up to his mouth, trying to cover what Steve thought was a smile before heading to the kitchen.

Steve released his breath he wasn't aware of holding and silently winced at the sharp pain from his more than likely cracked ribs. Being thrown over cars and into building wasn't something that should be taken lightly, but Steve didn't feel like being poked and prodded. Focusing his serum enhanced hearing, Steve heard Bruce rustling through the fridge and closing it softly. He very discreetly peaked around the corner of the wall and watched the man exit the kitchen, walk past the mess in the living room, and go back to the elevator. No doubt, going to his room.

Steve waited until the door closed behind him, before walking into the living room. Sighing at the mess that they had made, Steve went to the kitchen to get the supplies he needed to clean and asked JARVIS to tell him when Banner fell asleep.

It took less than thirty minutes, which actually didn't shock the super soldier after seeing the shape he was in. Steve none to gracefully stood up and suppressed a groan. _He should have gone to medical._ Pushing that thought aside, Steve went to the stairwell and proceeded his long trek down the four flights of steps. Why did Bruce have to be on the floor above the lab was beyond Steve.

Once he reached the door, he was painting and holding his side in a death grip to try and ease the ache in his chest. He was so taking the elevator back up. Steve pushed the door to Bruce's floor open and walked down the hallway. There were windows on his floor, but the view was closer to the ground and Steve could see the millions of car and people walking down the various streets, starting their day.

He maneuvered through Bruce's apartment until he found the door that had to have been his bed room adjacent to the kitchenette. Steve ever so quietly opened the door to the scientist's bedroom and looked in.

Bruce hadn't even bothered with the bed sheets and laid in a fetal position on the left hand side of the bed facing the window. He seemed to be lost in the sea of gray that was his bed sheets. Head full of chocolate hair sprinkled with gray lay underneath the bottom of the pillow and equally brown eyes were closed to Steve.

Steve tiptoed closer to the nightstand that held Bruce's alarm clock. He thanked God above that the thing was reasonable simple and picked the device up gingerly in his hands. He saw the snooze button but, every time he hit it, the stupid thing gave him set times to allow Banner to sleep in. Steve quirked an eyebrow at the clock and turned it upside down, trying to find another was for his friend to get some much needed sleep.

Then he found the off switch. Steve didn't know how long it would take for Bruce to reprogram his alarm clock, but as long as he could sleep the day away without any disturbances, Steve would gladly take the Doctor's anger. Sort of.

So, he switched it off and placed the blank alarm down and flinched when he noticed Bruce shifting in his bed. _Did he wake him?_ Steve wasn't entirely sure just how much of a light sleeper he was and to be honest, didn't want to find out. He stood there afraid to move, to breathe even, as Banner adjusted himself and rolled over shivering.

Steve sighed in relief and looked around the room for the closet that Pepper had showed him had extra blankets in every room. He found it and brought a thick quilt over and cover Bruce with it. The man snuggled into the blanket to the point that only the top of his head was visible. Smiling to himself, Steve silently left the room and closed the door behind him.

Another teammate down for the count.

Steve took the elevator up to the Avengers' living room and walked out. He had cleaned most of the mess. But there was still work to be done and he didn't want poor Pepper to have to do it once she got home. Not only would she kill him for cleaning in his state, but Tony would annoy him for not helping her.

Once again, Steve set to work on clearing the very messy room. And whenever he occasionally took a break to ease his bruised body and strained ribs, he looked out at the sun rising above New York from the window wall of the Avengers Tower.

 **A/N: Here is chapter two!? Do you guys like it? And I think I'm going to do Clint next. Either Clint or Thor, but I don't know. Let's see who will be more eager to go first.**


	3. Stolen Clocks

**Author's Note: Now, it is time for my favorite Archer! Well, besides Legolas…**

 **Enjoy!**

Clint couldn't life right now.

The SHIELD assassin and Avengers purple hawk was currently slouching back on one of the glass walls in the elevator shaft in Avengers Tower. A brown duffle bag lay at his feet, as Clint rested his head against the cool glass and closed his eyes. He had no clue how house wives did this kind of work! As a matter of fact, he was currently wondering if and how Natasha managed to do stuff like this on a daily bases!

All he knew was that his muscles ached from the 'extracurricular activities' that he had done over the past week. Clint sighed deeply and shifted his position so that his side was against the spotless windows and opened his eyes. _How in the world did he get so tired in a week?!_

 **~FLASHBACK~**

Clint didn't have any missions scheduled, which was both a reliever and a little odd for what he does for a living. So when Nick called him up and told him to pack a bag of clothes for the week, he was a little bit more than skeptical. But, being a good little assassin, he did what he was told. Despite the fact that he may or may not have heard Fury chuckling on the other line.

Once packed, Clint grabbed his bow and headed down to get into the sleek black SUV that was parked in front of Avengers Tower and rode to the helicopter waiting for him at the docks. He was the only one in the Tower until Fury called, so all he had to do was inform the already all-knowing AI in the ceiling before departing to lock up. Although, when you come the think about it, who was even dumb enough to try and break into the _AVENGERS_ Tower was beyond Clint. But he did it anyway to ensure he wouldn't get a face full of Tony, when he came back from Malibu.

Getting out of the car, Barton ducked slightly due to the buffering waves the blades of the helicopter produced as he neared the helipad. Hawkeye grabbed the hand bar on the outside of the helicopter and hoisted himself into the four seated back. He slung his duffle off of his shoulders and placed his bow across his lap as the pilot hand him the set of earphones.

Clint took them from the man and placed them over his ears as they took off. This was his favorite part about going back and forth to the SHIELD base whenever it was on the water. Having perfect vision, Barton looked over the city- his city- with an amazing bird's eye view. The morning sun shone over the many tall buildings and skyscrapers that was New York. Cars became ant the higher he went, the sounds fading to near nothing the farther out they went. Lady Liberty looked at her prime from this high up, and Clint couldn't help but chuckle at all of the pigeons atop her head. The blue water that quickly took the place of concrete and metal, glistened and had its own unique luster under his ever vigilante eye.

This is why he liked New York. There is always something different that seemed to catch his eye. Whether it was on top of Avengers Tower or in a helicopter flying to SHIELD, the sites always showed something different.

Static came over the mic in the head set as the pilot announced their eta and was given permission to land. Clint braced his feet on the edge of the open space where a door would be and pulled his duffle and bow onto this person. He slid off the headset and placed it on the seat beside him, looking down at the yellow landing pad on the helicarrier.

Wind played in Clint's hair as he jumped the last three feet from the copter and went into SHIELD.

He wouldn't have called it strutting, but Clint did have a proud airs about himself as he went into the ship. Barton passed many other bustling agents and trainees in the halls as he made his way to Director Fury's office in the middle of the _Titanic_ sized vessel. As he neared his destination, Clint couldn't help but notice the smug and cheerful looks of many of the other workers around him. _That's odd._ Clint thought, as he turned the corner and noticed a few of his students from training exercises snickering and giggling amongst themselves.

 _This cannot be good._

Clint would have approached them to find out the reason behind their humor, when Fury stuck his head out of his office and looked directly at him.

Barton was still worried and a little suspicious at their strange behavior, but passed by them anyway to go to the One Eyed Bandit before he started yelling. The assassin closed the distance between him and his Director and stepped into his office standing at attention. Fury had his back to him looking out over the scurrying bodies on the floor below him.

Hawkeye has been into Fury's office before, but it still struck him at just how OCD it was. Black hard backed chairs sat in front of a long black desk. Fury's swivel chair was also the same color with the exception of the silver gleam of the frame and armrests. There was only a computer and a mug of coffee on the desk on the right hand side and a neat stack of papers on the left. There were no personal pictures or freaking wallpaper on the grey walls and the plush looking carpet didn't even look friendly and welcoming either.

This wasn't the only time that Clint had wondered if the man with the eye patch ever loosened up. But this was ridiculous! The office practically screamed don't-touch-anything-unless-you-want-a-hoard-of-top-secret-agents-on-your-butt! But Nick's taste in decor could be discussed later, the most pressing matter was why in the heck was Clint Barton here on his day off!

Without turning around, Fury began to speak. "I see that looked pissed."

Clint wanted to laugh and say something along the lines of 'Nah, dip Sherlock!' but held his tongue. Nick turned around letting Clint see his one eyed glory and had the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.

 _Yep, this wasn't going to be good. First I get called in on my day off and now Nicholas Fury is smiling at me! What did I do this time!?_

Nick noticed his slight change in demeanor. "You're not in trouble, Barton, unless you did something stupid I need to worry about?" He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Clint kept his gaze forward, but he felt the smirk coming to his lips. "Nothing worth mentioning, sir."

Fury snorted, "'Nothing worth mentioning.' Well, since you have the week off, I have a job for you."

Now Clint was confused. That statement made no logical, and he was pretty sure grammatical, sense. "I beg your pardon?"

"I have a job for you Barton, that doesn't involve binge-watching the House Wives of LA."

Clint couldn't help himself, screw professionalism! "Okay?"

"You are going to stay on the helicarrier and help in the kitchen."

Clint looked directly at Fury, rage very evident in his voice. "WHY?! I had the whole week off!"

Nick walked away from the window and over to his desk, sitting in the chair an evil smirk playing on his face. "Just because you have the week off of _missions_ doesn't mean that you have the week off of doing work _here_. You will be working in the kitchen with Hilda as an assistant."

Barton blanched as he heard who he would be helping. "Hil-Hilda?"

Clint remembered Hilda. She was the meanest, nastiest, and ugliest, SHIELD worker in the whole dang ship! She was from Russia, much like Romanoff, but that woman was anything but Natasha! She was the only other person who scared the crap out of Clint besides Nat! And Fury knew that! That was probably why he was giving Barton a smile.

Clint gulped, this was gonna be a long week, people.

"Why Hilda?!"

"Because you have been avoiding you other duties here on the ship for months and now you can pay your dues. You know where your barracks are and I suggest you get to her before the lunch rush starts. Her other assistant is in the infirmary because he was to slow."

Hawkeye wanted to reach across the desk and punch the smug look off Fury's face. Repeatedly.

"Is that all?" He snarled.

"Yes, agent. You are dismissed."

Clint turned on his heels and practically stomped to his barracks. It was 11:40, twenty minutes before lunch. He glared at anyone who made direct eye contact with him in the hall, as he left his room wearing a white apron and a hair net in hand.

He was so going to shoot Fury.

 **~END OF FLASHBACK~**

So that explains why he was so tired. All week he had been running errands for Hilda, getting beat with wooden spoons and rolling pins because he didn't do something right, being humiliated, and getting very **very** little sleep. Clint brought a hand up to his left ear, he could have sworn that he had a pea stuck in there from sometime during the week.

The elevator doors opened on the floor that he had asked JARVIS to take him too. It was pretty cool, how Tony built him an indoor firing range and loft on his floor. Clint looked up at the ceiling, "Thanks, Jarvis."

But the AI didn't reply. Clint found it a little more than odd that the always polite and normally sarcastic artificial butler didn't reply, but just shrugged his tired shoulders and proceeded to dragging his duffle to the loft above his weapons wall.

He climbed the ladder at a pace that would put a snail to sleep, slung his bag and bow over that last rung and plopped down on the nest of pillows and blankets on the circular bed. Clint loved his little space. It had everything he needed! There was a mini fridge in the right corner with an alarm clock on top, bed –which he was currently face down on- on the left, TV on the wall opposite his nest, and a couple of other trifles that he took from all over the tower.

Without sitting up, Clint toed off his shoes and snuggled deeper into the soft sheets beneath him letting out a long sigh. As he drifted off to sleep, the corner of his mind still wondered why Jarvis didn't answer him back when he first walked in.

Steve stopped rubbing his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. The world came in and out of focus for a few moments as he looked up at the smooth surface above him.

When had he gotten to the Tower? How did he get here, again? But the better question was, _Who_ dropped him off?

You could say that Steve's memory was shot and not be wrong about it. He was tired, fatigued, drowsy, and beside the bought of memory loss had blurry vision. Steve knew those were only a few of the problems that was in his way at the moment, but he didn't care. After all, who would be able to sleep when every time you close your eyes either 1) you're drowning in the Arctic Circle, 2) you see your best friend dying, or 3) you are trying to lead and take care of a team that in any other universe would have killed each other by now! So Steve kind of had a right to be tired.

"Sir, Agent Barton has just arrived. Would you like me to ask him to assist you?"

Steve practically fell out of his spot on the sofa when he heard Jarvis speak. _That was Jarvis, right?_

Rubbing a hand down his face Steve settled again put his head back on the couch," No, Jarvis, thank you. I'm fine, he had a long week anyway. Clint probably needs more sleep than I do."

A small smile appeared on his face at the sight of the mighty Hawkeye wearing a hairnet and ladling out spoonful after spoonful of mashed potatoes. He would have loved to be in the office when Fury told him he was on kitchen duty. As the week went, everyone was everywhere but the Tower. Steve and Clint had jobs to do on the Helicarrier, Natasha was on a mission God knows where, Thor was on Asgard, Tony and Pepper in Malibu enjoying life, and Bruce was in England talking with another scientist. They would all be back either tomorrow or Sunday, so Steve wasn't too worried.

"Captain, it is not very health for one to only have acquired five hours of sleep in the past 336 hours. Any normal man would have lost his sanity by the 72 hour mark. Are you positive you do not acquire assistance?"

Jarvis sounded anxious, but Steve just categorized it as his programming.

"I'm fine Jarvis, but thanks for the concern." Steve closed his eyes. "Is he asleep yet?"

If Jarvis could sigh, Steve probably would have guessed he would right then. "Yes, Captain, Agent Barton has entered REM sleep as we speak."

Steve opened his eyes and looked quizzically at the ceiling. "REM sleep?"

"It is the state in which the human mind dreams, sir. And also happens to be the state in which you wake whenever you do fall into rest."

Steve rolled his eyes and got off the couch, walking to the elevator. Once the doors opened, he stepped inside and pressed the button for Clint's floor. "Is he in the loft or his room?"

"The loft, sir."

Steve waited as the numbers for the floors went by until it landed on Clint's level. He knew Clint was a light sleeper, dreaming or not. So he entered the room with caution and moved around the apartment and into his shooting range. Rogers made a beeline for the ladder leading to the suspended balcony and climbed it as quietly as possible. Once he reached the top, he made sure that Clint was indeed out and not fanning sleep.

His black combat boot lay on top of each other beside the nest like bed with Clint sprawled in the middle of it, back to Steve. His uniform clad back rose and fell in even breaths and Steve could just see the top of his blond head from where he knelt by the ladder. Steve crawled across the platform. Making as little noise as possible and approached the alarm clock on the fridge.

Cap let out an annoyed sigh as he looked down on the advanced piece of technology. _Why!_ Was Steve's only thought as he looked over the machine. It was just like Natasha's, which didn't surprise him, but all he did with hers was unplug it! So now Steve had a choice. Unplug it or take it to Tony and ask him how to turn it off.

After debating with both choices for a few minutes, Steve went with the second option. He gingerly unplugged the clock from the wall and tucked it under his arm as he crawled back to the ladder. He had to maneuver around the duffle bag in the middle of the floor -which was a lot hard than necessary- and descended down the ladder. As Steve left the shoot range and entered the elevator to go back to the Avengers living room, he turned the alarm clock in his hands and looked at it with a critical eye.

Why does everyone have to have an alarm clock that seemed to require more attention to it than sleep itself was beyond Steve's tired brain to figure out.

 **A/N: I know, I'm mean. (Pouts) But I love me some Steve! And tired Captain America trying to help his team is just awesome! Please review! And I am having a little trouble coming up with an idea for Thor…So any ideas would be much appreciated**


	4. Smashed

**Thor- Smash**

 **A/N: Alright, Hammer Time! Sorry for the delay! I had A LOT of work to cover with everything going on… here is your story and thank you for your patience. *Smiles***

Thor couldn't remember flying being this hard.

He was having great difficulty maneuvering around the many metal buildings that was New York City. The thunderous blonde could barely keep his eyes open in the torrential downpour that soaked his clothing. Today was long and hard. And Thor wanted nothing more than to plop down on the lush bed that waited for him at the Man of Iron's Tower.

The obnoxiously loud roar of the quickly approaching eighteen wheeler was what brought the god of Thunder out of his sleep driven trance. Both his and the driver's faces displayed a mini marathon of expressions before actually realizing what was going to happen. With a startled shout, Thor swerved to the left to avoid any more damage to both his tired body and the huge truck. Unfortunately, his sudden change in direction resulted in him crashing into side of one of the brick buildings, that wasn't very far from the bustling highway, and landing roughly on the warm and wet concrete.

Rain droplets fell from his golden hair and into electric blue eyes as he laid in one of his new personal craters. Thor tilted his head skyward as much as he could in the artificial earth and gazed up at the gray and clouded sky. Thor knew that the Midgardian physiology required that they had a sufficient amount of rest on a daily basis. He had seen the end result of Lady Jane after not resting for two whole days, and he had no intention of ever seeing her like that again! However, it still baffled Thor how the Son of Stark manages to go up to days without resting and still retain his normal behavior.

Thor opened his eyes. When exactly had he closed them? When had he become so weary? He was perfectly fine this morning! He was now more than content to just stay in the accidental dent that his body had made, regardless of all the odd stares that he was receiving from the people passing by.

But he knew that his war comrades were waiting for his arrival. So with many foreign curses, Thor managed to sit himself up.

He was tired and there was no way around it!

So trying to delay his trip back to headquarters a little longer, he placed his head in his hands to both quench the nausea and figure out what he did today to make his body want to go into the Odin's Sleep.

 **~FLASHBACK~**

It was NOT the team's fault that the Kree decided to make another visit to Midgard.

No one expected it to happen so quickly, but then again, when does one ever expect to be invaded by another intelligent aliens race in a world were superheroes and mythical gods are alive and fight crime.

That's right…NO ONE!

This thought struck Thor as he clubbed another one of the foul creatures in the face with his hammer. Right now there were other problems on his mind. For example, how in Valhalla did they come back to the earth if the cube was secured? Why were they here? What was going on? And why must they come during what Stark calls a level three hurricane?

The battle itself was stressful. The concrete was soaked as thick sheets of hurricane level rain made thunderous claps against the ground. So trying to find a firm footing was much easier said than done. The Man of Iron had his…well, iron, and he had Mjölnir to aid him in flight. However, he could not help but feel sympathy for his less fortunate comrades.

The Man of Hawk had a decent perch atop some balcony like structure on a high building firing down arrows over the invaders. As long as he stayed on the building the slick concrete should not have affected the archer very much, but the thick sheets of water did hinder his sights. And he complained of it often.

Lady Natasha was using the element to her advantage, slipping and sliding along the hard concrete to trip her victims before firing squarely into their reptilian faces. Thor shivered at the display of violence and thanked Odin that she was on his side.

The Hulk was smashing the horrendous creatures to his heart's content! Leaving nothing behind except black smudges and deformed figures.

Friend Steve seemed to have a handle on the battle he was facing due to the grunting and the metallic _ding_ his shield made when hitting a target. Thor listened to the battle around him, trying to keep tabs on his comrades and fight at the same time. He saw a flash of light from the direction that he knew Steve was before the shout came over the earcomm.

Thor was worried as he listened to the silence from their Captain followed by shouting from his earpiece. He could not see any of his teammates except for the dark and fuzzy forms the rain produced.

"Hey, Spangles? You alright? Jarvis said that you got hit." Stark's voice talked over the link and everyone could hear the high whine as his repulsers charged up for yet another blast.

"Fine, Stark,' Steve said, a little out of breath,' just a scratch."

"Um-hm, we'll have Jarvis scan you when the eye comes our way, Captain Hard***. And I swear, if it's anything more than a scratch, I'll sick Pepper and Natasha after you!"

Steve chuckled, but they all could hear how strained it sounded from the normally humbling tune.

"So Birdbrain! How's the weather up there?! Doeth thou liketh your stay at Casa de la Rain?"

Thor chuckled, leave it to the Son of Stark to find a way to lighten the intensity of battle.

"We have about ten more minutes before the eye comes. I can't see squat! And I'm pretty sure that Hulk is making a huge mess where the fight isn't."

They were all answered by an ear splitting roar that would put Thor's booming voice next to a mouse.

"Alright, hang in there Cap and stay where you ARE. The last thing we need is to have your 100% made in the USA blood all over 8th street! Ten more minutes people! Ten more minutes!"

Lady Natasha groaned before she spoke," This isn't a movie set Tony."

"Eh, who cares?! Hey M. , is there any way you can make the rain stop? Since you're the…you know…god of Thunder."

Thor snorted and hit another Kree," Man of Iron, I control the light and sound of the heavens! Not that of the weather patterns! Blame your magic box's forecaster for this news!"

"True enough."

The fighting resumed along with the bickering as the eye of the storm came. Everyone scanned the drenched landscape of smoldering vehicles and crater littered roads looking for their Captain. Hawkeye had spotted him as soon as the rain cleared and directed the rest of the team to his location.

The wounded Avenger lay with his back to probably the only drivable car on this side of New York with his hand pressed to his side. Blood oozed through the burned tatters of his uniform and gloved fingers. Steve's normally serious face was caught between a grimace and what Thor assumed was sneer.

The team rushed up to him—except Hawkeye who was keeping watch for any surprise Kree attacks— and tried to aid Steve. They all came up with a battle plan after a bit of field medicine for Steve and a scolding from The Spider.

Although wounded, Steve still fought with his team through the next wave of the hurricane. The battle would continue for a few more hours until Tony was able to find the supposed "off switch" for the intergalactic portal.

The Hulk shrunk down to Bruce Banner, who was given cloths from Natasha before hurrying to Steve's side. Banner tightened the bandage around Steve's abdomen, after checking that the wound didn't bleed through. The only response Steve showed of his discomfort was a grunt as he clenched his teeth. Bruce and Hawkeye helped Steve to a not so damaged SUV and got ready to leave for the Tower's Medbay. Natasha had originally planned to stay with the clean-up crew, but under Thor insistence, went with the other men to the Avenger's HQ.

Steve sent him a helpless look through the car window as they drove off. Thor had rather enjoyed watching his team bicker over the Captain and wanted to be sure that Healer Banner had enough hands to keep him down.

Thor stood there and waited until the first of the SHIELD operatives arrived.

At first they had him do mere tasks such as putting out fires and helping get trapped citizens out of cars, but the more time he spent, the harder the tasks became. The last thing he did before being released was smash thorough layer upon layer of rocks and concrete to get to the injured people underneath and make life easier for the demolition crew.

He wasn't going to complain about saving lives, but he didn't know it was going to take this much out of him to do what the Hulk would have done in mere minutes! And just because Loki loved him so, the storm had lightened during the actual labor, but as he swung his hammer to leave…

The rain picked up… again.

 **~END FLASHBACK~**

That was the answer to his question, but it still baffled the Norse god. How in all the Bifrost could he be mentally and physically exhausted to the point of collapse after crushing stone bewildered Thor. But for now, he was willing to put that aside until he had properly rested.

Thor lifted his head from his hands a little too quickly. The world swam in his vision making everything an odd array of colors and patterns. He brought up a hand to knead his throbbing temples. Friend Steve was going to lecture him of the importance of not working himself so much, but at the moment, Thor's main concern was trying to stand up without falling over. He dropped his to heavy hands from the sides of his head- after giving up on the failed attempt to force the headache away- and placed them by his hips. With a mighty heave, Thor pushed himself off the ground and swayed on his feet.

New York became a kaleidoscope of bright lights, colors, and moving being for a few moments until he braced himself on a part of the undamaged brick wall. Thor gasped deep breathes and tightly clenched his eyes shut trying to persuade what little he had eaten today to remain in his stomach.

It took a few moments, but when he no longer felt the urge to expel his internal organs, he gingerly opened his eyes. People stood in front of him where he was leaning against the wall. Well, at least he thought they were people. He couldn't tell between the rain in his eyes and the blinding headache. One of the murky being stepped forward and Thor could feel the light pressure of a hand resting on his shoulder.

"Hey man, you okay?" The voice was deep and comforting, almost like Friend Steve's but it held the thicker accent of the people in the city of metal and skyscrapers.

"Aye,' Thor tried to hide the fatigue in his voice,' I will not need any assistance, thank you brother. I will never forget your kindness to me this day."

Thor gave the man a tired smile and tried to focus long enough see his aid's face, but couldn't.

The man slide an arm under Thor's shoulder and helped him stand. They both grunted. The stranger, probably due to Thor's weight, and Thor to the fact that the dizziness had returned. The man remained by his side until he was sure Thor was steadily on his feet then let go. Thor looked up and ran his fingers through his wet hair. He'd better go before the rain gets to heavy again.

Tired and annoyed, he stretched out his hand to retrieve Mjölnir from a nearby rain puddle—almost electrocuting the startled rat that had perched upon it after Thor's sudden crash landing. His arm ricocheted back at the force of impact, but Thor remained where he stood. The familiar grip of the leather on his calloused hands reminding him of the many battles they had fought together. And the one that now faced them on the long flight home.

Thor let his hand release the handle and fall to the wrist strap, then began to twirl the hammer in a rapid circular motion. The small crowd quickly dissipated as he picked up speed. Blinding white and blue sparks shot out from Mjölnir in every direction. Thor looked skyward, letting the warm rain grace his face, before taking off into the stormy New York sky and heading to the Tower and the bed that awaited him.

 **_AVENGERS_**

 _When had I become so clumsy?_

Steve was laying on the couch with his back resting against the soft leather cushions. Banner had thoroughly cleaned and bandaged his side as soon as they had gotten to the tower. Clint **AND** Natasha looked about ready to murder when they were actually able to see his wound. The angry red and black charred skin was peeled back to expose some of the muscle underneath. The wound itself would have been fatal to anyone else, but thanks to the super serum, Steve was saved a hospital trip. Being on his back was practically the only position that did not cause him too much pain and discomfort at the moment. It was moments like this that really made Steve wish that Tylenol would work on him.

Yet, despite the tremendous pain in his side, Steve was celebrating an internal victory.

While trying to take care of the wound, no one had really noticed the dark bags under his eyes. Steve knew that it was not exactly the best thing to be celebrated, but the last thing he needed—no they needed—was to know of his problems. They had enough as it was with the lives that they live!

Thor and Asgard.

Natasha and Clint with trauma and their past.

Tony with life!

Banner and the other guy.

The last thing they needed to add to their list was a sleep deprived Steve Rogers. It was his fault anyway for not getting any sleep which resulted in him slipping on the pavement and therefore getting blasted by the Kree. So this wasn't something they could necessarily fix.

So here he was looking at the TV remote that Tony had tossed his way before going back to his lab. He had no intention of watching TV, but Stark said something about getting use to the culture or something like that.

In the end Steve didn't even bother on trying to turn on the TV or asking Jarvis to; instead, he just sat there and looked at the sleek black piece of plastic in his hands.

As he sat there, he tried to remember the last time sleep did come to him. Ever since the ice his sleep patterns had been off, so that wasn't anything new. But the reoccurring nightmares were a different story. He did take a short nap yesterday, but even naps were short lived now.

Steve wanted to do anything but sit here on the sofa with a remote in his hands, and listen to his team cook dinner. They had kicked him out of the kitchen earlier saying things like how they didn't want blood in their food. This only left Steve to lay in the living room and greet Thor when he came back to the Tower.

Thor had taken Natasha's duty of clean-up today so that she could be here with him. But Steve had a suspicion that the only reason Thor did it was because he liked watching the group mother-hen each other. On the other hand, Steve didn't like to be mother-henned! He was their captain and therefore had to care for his team, not the other way around! They were the ones cooking dinner –and making a great deal of noise with it, when he was perfectly fine and at least able to help. Steve huffed a sigh and winced, clutching his side. Then brought a very heavy arm up to his eyes.

The crook of his elbow was rather warm and almost comforting as he began to silently day dream in his spot laying down on the couch until a loud boom resonated from further above.

Steve dropped his arm and gave the ceiling a quizzical expression. That was either Thor or another letter fell off of Stark's Tower again. To determine which of the two could possibly be the answer, he asked Jarvis.

"Uhm, Jarvis, what was that?"

The British accented AI answered automatically," Thor has made his entrance and is currently in route to his bedroom, Captain."

Now Steve was even more confused for several reasons. 1) No one else heard the LOUD thud on the roof that was sure to make traffic stop. 2) Why was Thor heading straight to his room? He normally comes to the Tower's main living room, drops his hammer by the entrance and plops on the couch. And 3) what in the WORLD where they making in the kitchen to make so much NOISE!

Steve kept his eyes to the ceiling, "Is he okay?"

"Yes, his melatonin and adenosine level had risen to much higher levels than possible since your departure at 1200. He is simple tired and in much need of rest, Captain. Much like you yourself."

Steve glared at the all-knowing AI. "I thought we agreed not to discuss this?"

Jarvis then struck back with a recording from one of the many arguments that he and Tony get into.

 _"_ _Did we Steve? Did we really?!"_

Rogers chuckled, "you act just like Tony." Before pushing himself off the couch with a series of grunts and grabbed at his side.

"I wouldn't do that, Captain Rogers. Dr. Banner would not be pleased."

Steve waved his hand in the air knowing that JARVIS would see it, then trudged to the elevator. He pressed the key that would take him to Thor's level and waited for the elevator to ascend. Rogers looked up to ask Jarvis another question before he was cut off.

"Thor is asleep."

He blinked at the ceiling and was about to ask him how he knew what he was going to say, but the elevator opened. Steve gave Jarvis a look and raised an eyebrow before going in and leaning against the far wall. The doors closed softly in front of him as Steve watched the numbers go up. The button for Thor's floor already glowing when he had stepped in.

Steve stood there, rubbing his side gingerly and thinking about the fact that he was getting more used to Jarvis the more tired he got when the doors opened.

He had been in Thor's room before, but in all those times **all** of the lights were on. Now, this placed looked foreign to him.

Everything looked like it had a deep shade of gray mixed in with the other colors in the rooms. The dark storm outside of the Tower only adding even more dreary colors to the palette. Steve stepped out of the elevator shaft hesitantly as he made his way to Thor's bedroom. The elevator was the only light source that Steve had as he maneuvered his way around the pub like island that separated the living room/ dining room from the kitchen.

Thor liked this closed up arrangement because it reminded him of his home on Asgard, or at least that is what he had told them. Steve liked more of an open space with more freedom to move around, but everyone was different. Bucky liked it how Thor does with everything all in one spot and to this day Steve still doesn't understand it.

There was no inch of wall safe from Asgardian culture. Thor had brought his home to him. There were Asgardian blankets and rugs hanging anywhere there wasn't a window. Furs of animals that Steve has only heard about in the stories he was told lay scattered in the tiled floor. (Which Tony added, due to the constant complaining that the housemaids put up whenever Thor had spilled some food or drink on the carpet) Wherever there wasn't tapestry, weapons hung from hooks on the white walls and a large variety of ales and brews were on display in the kitchen.

This place reminded Steve almost of the bar that he and his commandos went to in the event prior to Bucky's death. The room started to fill with the sounds of the laughter of men as they all crowded around the small television and enjoyed each other merriment. Steve remembered all of the smiling faces, the drinks in their hands, the poker game going on in the back, and the fun they had after destroying that HYDRA base.

The smell of beer and excitement permeated the air in a joyous mix as everything happened around Steve. Then Peggy walked in.

Her chocolate brown hair curled evenly at her shoulders, ruby red lips formed a signature smirk that only appeared for him. Brown eyes sparkled under the yellow lights of the bar as she drew nearer. Peggy's rose red dress fit her slim, petite frame to the point. Hips swaying teasingly with her equally red heels approaching Steve.

She was beautiful.

Everything about her was beautiful. To him, it didn't matter if she was in fatigues or Sunday's best, as long as she was here Steve would be happy. He reached out his hand to take her painted one as the world around them slowed.

The commandoes' loud voices died down. Peggy's flowery scent replaced that of beer and men. Red was the only color he could see, and it wasn't from anger or greed, but the dress on his love's body and her ruby lips.

She reached out and took Steve's hand and he drew her close. He wouldn't trade this moment for the world, even at the cost of his own life. His blue eyes looked down into her brown ones as he felt a smile creep across his face. This was Peggy Carter, this was 1943 all over again, and this was his home.

Peggy watched him, searching his face for something as he gazed down at her. "I'm ready for my dance, Steve."

Her voice was smooth and even, calming to him. "Okay, when?"

"Meet me here, right at this spot at eight o'clock sharp. Wear your best dress, and don't you dare be late." Her smirk widened on her lips and Steve couldn't help but smile back.

"Yes, ma'am. Eight o'clock sharp."

"And don't be late." She pointed a red painted finger at his chest.

Steve chuckled, "I won't be."

Peggy let go and Steve watched her step out of the bar and into the busy streets of New York. He turned in slow circles, taking everything in; before he blinked, and everything was gone. The room dark and still, not filled with the laughter and energy of his men. Not left with the sweet scent of Peggy Carter in the air. He was no longer in 1943, but in 2015.

Steve made another once over of the room, looking for anything to take him back to the past. But found only Thor's apartment. He proceeded to his original mission before he was sidetracked again. Find the alarm clock, turn it off, and try to get back to the main floor before the rest of the team noticed his absence.

Using as much stealth as his sleep deprived body could manage, Steve crept down the hall adjoining the kitchen toward the bedroom.

He could hear Thor's snoring through the door, so he didn't feel as bad when the hinges squeaked after the door swung open. The light of the elevator was far behind him now, so Rogers had to rely on his sense of awareness and memory to navigate the room. However, when your sleep deprived memory and awareness mean nothing to the brain and body. So when Steve's foot meet Thor's hammer, it took a whole LOT of restraint to only grunt and not scream. Thor on the other hand, snorted in his sleep then went right back to snoring.

Steve wished he could sleep, not like the dead, but sleep. He dropped his foot from his hands and walked on two feet instead of hopping on one. The jumping did nothing to help his side, but the hammer was unavoidable. He went over to the left side of the bed where Thor's alarm clock laid and glanced at his sleeping comrade.

Thor was face first on the pillow, but even the soft down padding was no match for his snores. He was still in his uniform, but the fabric looked even more crinkled than usual. Steve concluded that he was probably wet when he face planted into the bed so the clothes did not have adequate drying time. Thor's booted feet dangled off the end and the left side of the California King, while his vibrant red cape lay like a blanket over top of him.

Steve had to admit, his team did have weird sleeping patterns, but as long as they slept he was content to let them lay as they pleased.

He directed his attention back to the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was a simple one, THANK GOD! Steve released his hold on his side in favor of letting the table support him and felt around for the alarms off switch. Just when he thought he found it, a deafening bolt of lightning flashed outside the window.

Rogers yelled, startled and hit the radio button instead. Mexican music filled the room at a high volume and rapid pace. Steve panicked and looked at the clock with sudden alarm as he tried to turn off the radio. Thor snorted and choked in his sleep on the verge of waking when Steve made his drastic decision.

He lifted his fist up in the air and brought it down full force on the alarm clock.

The little device shattered into several pieces of dark plastic and wiring as the Mexican music became no more. Steve wearily glanced over at Thor. Did he wake him? Or is he still asleep?

Thor remained silent and Steve held his breath. Then the other blond haired man signed in content as his snores filled the room once again. Rogers brought his head to the ceiling and thanked God above that the ordeal was over. He turned to the window and glared daggers at the clouds and the rain pelting the window.

"All of this for a stupid clock." Steve grumbled to himself as he left Thor's room. He would be back later to replace the alarm, but until then he highly doubted that Thor would waken.

Steve stepped _around_ the hammer in the door way and stepped outside the room, closing the door softly behind him. He left the hallway and passed the kitchen cellar. There would not be another day dream today, he was probably going to get another earful from Natasha and Bruce for moving anyway.

Rogers stepped into the dimly lit elevator and pressed the key to go back to the living room. He placed his hand back on the wound he had received, then pulled it back when he felt wetness. Steve looked down and saw the red now covered his palm. He put his head back on the cool glass and closed his eyes. "Perfect."

"Uhm, Steve?"

Steve snapped his eyes open. Jarvis never called him Steve, NEVER! "Jarvis?"

"Sir, has a recording that he wanted me to play for you upon your entrance to the elevator…"

Jarvis seemed unsure of whether or not he should play it or not. He just seemed unsure period.

"Okay…? Just play it Jarvis, there is honestly nothing he can't say that would hurt my feeling now." _Awesome._

"As you wish." Jarvis played the recording, and instantly Steve wished he had just taken Jarvis' hesitation and just said no. The large elevator shaft felt like a chamber in which Steve received the super serum, when Tony's voice came on.

"SPANGLES! WHERE THE **** ARE YOU! JARVIS TOLD US THAT YOU TORE YOUR STITCHES AND ARE WONDERING YOUR RED, WHITE, AND BLUE *** ALL OVER THE TOWER! IF THERE IS BLOOD ANYWHERE! AND I DO MEAN **ANYWHERE** I WILL MAKE YOU PUT YOUR PATRIOISM TO THE TEST AND CLEAN THE **** BUILDING!? SO GET DOWN HERE EAGLE SCOUT, WE NOW HAVE WORK TO DO!?"

Then Clint's voice broke in, "Did you tell him we got pizza 'cause someone burned the chicken."

"AND WE GOT PIZZA! SO HURRY UP BEFORE BIRDBRAIN EATS YOURS!"

The message stopped. Steve blinked at the sudden silence that filled the now empty air. If he was feeling tired before, that feeling was now entirely gone.

"Jarvis…"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Tell them I'm coming."

"Will do, Captain."

And with that, Steve stayed glued to the handle on the back of the elevator with a deer in the headlights expression until the elevator _ding_ ed on his floor.

 **A/N: Okay… I know I've taken forever. I'm sowry… But! On a better notes, guess who's next? See ya real soon!**


	5. Jarvis, I Need Help

**Tony- Jarvis? I need help…**

 **A/N: Hey, uhm, sorry for the wait… school, and stuff. But here is our stubborn and too smart for his own good TONY! Please feel free to leave comments and suggestions, I want to improve and develop more ideas for later stories. Thank you!**

"Sir, I do not think that this is either safe or…ethical."

Tony blocked out the automated butler for what was probably the twelfth that day. Had it been a day? Two? Three? Tony mentally shrugged at the idea of time as he continued to scurry about the lab bumping into things as he went. The man had a plan even if it did cost him three days of sleep, and no AI or sleepy god were going to make him stop! Tony stopped mid-stride and grabbed coffee cup number eight for the day before glaring up at the ceiling.

"Shut up, Jarvis! You are ruining my moment! And how can it not be safe? Besides SHIELD, this is one of the safest places to test my theory out. And I am determined to do just that! How is this not ethical?"

He threw back his head and emptied the rest of the cup's contents into his stomach before running about the lab again. Tony grabbed a couple of monitors and jumper cables from a table in the corner of the room and placed them in the center of table in the middle of the lab. His mad experiment would happen one way or another.

"Sir, you need an adequate amount of rest and sustenance in order to take on an experiment, on this large a scale without causing major collateral damage. You in your current state are more likely to short circuit every electronic device within a twenty mile radius."

"I said can it, J! Nothing will happen to Sparky here! He is perfectly safe with me!" Tony huffed as he picked up the heavy generator that he had Happy get for him earlier that day. Or was it yesterday?

"Son of Stark… I do believe that the Man in the Walls is correct. I do not feel either secure or justified in doing as you wish…" Thor had remained quiet up to this point as he watched the genius and the disembodied voice argue between themselves. He did not understand the bond between the two, but Thor was wise enough to tell that any Midgardian without substantial rest was very easily capable of destruction.

Thor jumped as Tony slapped one of the heart monitor stickers onto various parts of his chest and temples, before being shoved (with a surprising amount of force) into a swivel chair.

"Hush, Blonde! This won't even hurt you! Do either of you trust me?"

Thor and Jarvis voiced their opinion in unison. "Nay." "No."

"Ouch,' Tony deliberately brought his twitchy right hand to rest over the arc reactor in his chest while his face displayed mock betrayal, 'that stung. Remind me not to buy you anymore stock piles of Triple Fudge Belgium Poptarts, then!"

Thor stood abruptly, electricity sparking off of him and causing Tony's hair to stand on end. The lights flickered in the lab and the stairwell visible through the clear glass doors of the lab.

"Thou wouldst not taketh away my pastries, Son of Stark." Thor growled deeply in the back of his throat and electric blue eyes bore into the other man's dark brown ones.

Tony, on the other hand, hadn't moved from his previous position. The only thing that had changed was the expression he wore. An evil smirk currently replaced the fake betrayed look he had sported earlier. Tony lowered his hand from his chest and brought up his left to give the Norse god the national sign of surrender.

"So we have a deal, then?' Tony's smirk deepened as one eyebrow went up like his electrified hair,' You become my human battery/test dummy, whatever you chose to be called, and I will make sure you have Belgium poptarts until you make yourself sick? Deal?"

The bigger man looked down at him for a good minute before nodding in consent. Tony extend a hand to Thor and the bigger man took it, nearly engulfing Tony's.

"Deal."

Tony let out an animalistic shout as he dropped Thor's hand, pushed him back into the chair, and ran about the room with a renewed passion.

"Excellent!? Jarvis, fire-up the engines! Ladies and gentleman, fasten your seatbelts because this is going to be a scientific event to go in the history books!?"

Thor winced as he watched the smaller man collided with DUMMY on the far side of the room. Man and robot lay in a tangled heap on the floor as they both struggled to get up. DUMMY beeping angrily and Tony cursing colorfully. If it weren't for the fact that the genius had gone nearly 72 hours without rest, the mass of human and robot limbs would be a hysterical sight. Thor's eyes never left the sight just ten feet away from him when Jarvis spoke.

"Master Thor."

He tilted his head to speak the formless voice, while keeping Tony and DUMMY in his peripheral vision. "Yes, Man in Walls?"

"Should I call Captain Rogers?"

There was a pregnant pause as both man and voice watched Tony get to his feet, only to be sprayed with the fire extinguisher that BUTTERFINGERS brought over somewhere in the struggle.

"Yes, I would think that be wise."

 _Steve had felt the burning rush as the water burst through the nose of the aircraft. Nothing else could ever compare to the feeling as like millions of needles bit into his skin the further he sank into the inky blackness. Water was all there was to him now._

 _Water and cold._

 _The world just stopped as the last words from his beloved finally found a way to drift into his ears from the dying radio. Steve didn't know when they would find him. He didn't know if he would survive this one. There was no way of telling in the dark expanse of time and space that separated him from his world. All he knew was cold, dark, and pain._

 _Steve managed to open his eyes one las time before the darkness finally claimed him. The icy void was tinged a scarlet red as his wounds oozed out into the Arctic waters, but that wasn't what Steve focused on the further down he went. It was the gaping hole that the plane had made when it made its crash landing. The hole that was growing ever smaller._

 _He blinked as the as the last bubbles of air left his mouth as reached for the surface. Those clear breathes of air being what he knew were his lasts. Steve closed his eyes and lay limp to the current as gravity brought him down. His only regret being that he could never have that dance with the beautiful Scarlet Woman._

"Captain?"

The mention of his name startled Steve as his head shot up from his pillow and scanned the room before realizing where he was. He shivered and unburied a hand from underneath the three thick blankets to wipe the cold sweat off his forehead. The man then slowly lowered his head to the pillow and breathed in the mixture of sweat and fabric softener. It was just another dream, not as bad as all the other ones that Steve had lived through, but still a dream.

"Captain, I would not disturb you unless the matter was urgent."

Steve raised his head from the pillow just enough to look at the ticking hand on the old alarm clock on the nightstand. It was just after 2:30, and if it weren't for the fact that A) he was planning on getting up anyway because of the dream and B) he had attempted to get at least five hours of sleep (under Fury's direct orders), then Steve probably would have waved it off. He rolled off of his stomach and onto his back under the too warm blankets, before bring both hands up to his face scrubbing at his eyes.

He let out a long yawn before answering Jarvis. " Don't worry about it, I was going to get up anyway. What do you need, Jarvis?"

"Sir is attempting to find a new source of clean molecular-electromagnetic energy to power the quantum generator. Therefore, stopping the amount of carbon dioxide permeating the atmosphere and causing less greenhouse gases from the excess burning of coal and non-biodegradable materials. However, I fear that Sir may only overpowering the generator and causing a chain reaction that will inevitably blow out every motherboard and electronic outlet in the city. "

Steve sat up and struggled to push the blankets off his tangled legs. "English please, Jarvis."

If the AI had eyes, Steve was more than positive it would have rolled them. "Master Stark is attempting to use Thor Odinson as a living batter, Captain."

Steve's head rocketed toward the ceiling as he continued struggling with the blankets entrapping his feet. "HE WHAT?! OF ALL THE STUPID…" His effectively disentangled himself and bolted out of the bed toward his bedroom door. Whatever had caused his to delay had gone with the sleepiness that once slowed his motions as he sprinted to the stairwell.

He threw the door open and took the stairs two at a time in an effort to make it to the lab before Tony did anything drastic. "Where is everyone else?"

Jarvis's voice followed him down the stairs. "Doctor Banner is in Somalia handling devastating outbreak. Agent Barton is working with Director Fury on the SHIELD helicarrier. And I believe Ms. Romanoff is sleeping; however, I found it most appropriate to contact you for fear of Sir's wellbeing."

Steve nodded as he came down to the last flight of stairs before reaching the lab. He stopped on the steps and gripped the hand rail on the right hand side. The sweat from his exhortation now overruled that of the nightmare as Steve braced himself and swung over the railing to skip the last two flights of steps. He landed in a slightly wobbly crouch, traces of sleep still in his being, but recovered quickly before quickly closing the distance between the bullet (and experiment) proof doors and him. However, the sight before him made Steve shiver and wonder what in _world_ made Tony decide this was a good idea.

There through the glass sat Thor in the swivel chair, poking at the sticky monitors on his person. While Tony was making jumper cables spark to life as he rubbed the end together.

Thor's mouth was moving, as if he were talking to someone—no doubt Tony—before his lips stopped and his gazed shift to his captain's. Steve must have had a look of genuine horror on his face because Thor haltered and seemed to stutter on his words, before turning to Tony and speaking again. Said billionaire, whirled around and hid the jumper cables behind his person with his classical look or fake innocence.

Thor gave him an "I know your lying face" before standing from the chair and approaching the much smaller man. That was when Steve asked Jarvis to override the lock protocols and grant him entrance. Steve's adrenaline rush now over from the stairs was passing quickly as he was immediately bombarded with the yelling of an angry god and a caffeinated superhero.

Tony's arms were waving every which direction only taking momentary pauses to put his hands on his hips, while Thor just stood there with tightened fists and clenched jaw.

"SON OF STARK, HOW DARE YOU TRY TO ELECTICUTE ME WITH THIS JUMPING CABLE!"

"IT'S 'JUMPER CABLE' HAMMERHEAD! AND I DID ASK FOR YOUR PERMISSION BEFORE TRYING THE EXPERIMENT! IT IS NOT MY FAULT THAT YOU AGREED TO BE A BATTERY!?"

"'TIS NOT MINE EITHER! YOU NEGLECTED TO INFORME ME OF THE SPARK SNAKES!?"

"DID NOT!"

"DIDST TO!?"

"DID NOT!?"

"DIDST TOO!"

"DID NO-"

"ENOUGH!?"

Steve let the two bicker for a while, but when they bother started to sound like whiny two year olds was when he drew the line. "Tony,' Steve approached him carefully due to the jumper cables still in his hands,' when was the last time you slept? Was it before or after Ms. Po-, er, Pepper left or after?"

Steve knew the answer, but he wanted Tony to admit it for himself. Thor meanwhile, looked on as Steve handled the situation. Then something occurred to him. _Had the Captain always looked this weary?_ Steve's shoulders were slouched ever so slightly under the thin white t-shirt he was wearing. His normally rod straight back was hunched and the muscles in his shoulder blades seemed strained under the lab's harsh lighting. The blue and white pajama pants seemed to be fitting him a little loosely around the waist, as if he had not eaten in some time. Which Thor knew that the serum that was giving the man strength would not take well.

Thor watched as Steve stretched out his shaky hands to slowly ease the jumping cables out of the Man of Iron's grip and place them on the table. The Captain's expression outwardly expressed calm and wisdom, but internally, Thor knew that there was more to be seen. There he made a vow to keep a closer eye on the Super Soldier until whatever was ailing him had past. No matter how long it took.

"Okay, Tony, why would you not go seventy-two hours without sleep?" Steve brought his hands up to face and rubbed his burning eyes. He knew he was being hypocritical, but at the moment he honestly did give a crap. Tony stood not two feet away and he reeked of coffee and motor oil, along with the very unpleasant scent of body oder—which was probably the result from being cooped up in the lab for **three** days! Steve was surprised that Tony could stand, he was shaking harder than that pampered Chihuahua on the dog movie Tony made them watch last week!

He moved his hands away from his eyes and let his left arm cover his torso while letting his right serve as prop for his head. _This is what I get for coming back from a mission, taking a five hour nap with Tony in the lab, and then leaving Thor_ _ **alone**_ _with him._ Steve waited as Tony tried way too hard to give him an answer, leave the Super Soldier a bit worried—because Tony _never_ shuts up—and just a bit impatient.

Tony's gaze never left Steve's as he opened his mouth to speak. "I did take naps!" His left eye twitched comically, but his stare staid true.

Steve wanted to face palm. "Naps don't count. I meant actually, replenishing, and I will call Pepper if you don't sleep."

"Uhm…"

"Exactly, Thor,' Steve dropped his arms and looked at the tired god, 'I'm going to escort Tony to his room. Do you need anything else?" Steve approached the "genius" and, before Tony could protest, slung him over his shoulders and into a fireman's carry. Said billionaire let out an indignant squeak, but surprisingly didn't fight back against Steve.

"I am not in need of any other assistance Son of Rogers, but if I may ask?"

Steve quirked an eyebrow at his normally loud and energetic friend when a tone of concern entered his voice. "What is it Thor? You can ask me anything."

Thor hesitated, but remained quiet for a moment as if he were debating something before speaking. "Art thou certain that you do not wish for me to carry the man of Iron? He seems quite heavy."

On the mention of Tony's weight, Steve realized that Tony hadn't even said a word since being slung over his shoulder. Steve turned his head in the direction of Tony's and found his answer. Tony had somehow managed to fall asleep in all of two second. His eyes moved rapidly under his lids and a long line of drool escaped his mouth and onto Steve's shirt. Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled at the sight then addressed Thor. "No, I got him. Thank you for the offer Thor, but I think that you need to get some sleep."

The hammer wielding warrior looked ready to protest, but nodded his head in submission.

Steve left the lab with Thor talking to Jarvis about the monitor stickers, as he made the heroin journey to Tony top floor bedroom. He was never really the complaining type, but Tony was _heavy_ when asleep. After much adjusting, cursing, and stair, Steve finally made it to the top floor penthouse, entered Tony's ridiculously large room, and let the man drop on the bed. On the sudden change of position, Tony groaned but otherwise made no other effort to move on the bed. Steve brace his hands on his knees to catch his breath, before searching the room for a blanket.

There just so happened to be an "I 3 Tony" blanket decorated with the suites layout in electric blue thread draped across a nearby chair. Steve pulled the fabric off and walked back over to the bed, laying it gracefully on the sleeping form. Turning from the man, Steve gazed upon the contraption that was Tony's alarm clock on the night stand.

It was a little smaller than the average modern alarm clock, but there was a jumble of wires, buttons, levers, and lights that Steve really did not want to mess with. So he did the simplest thing in a house almost too complicated to touch. He looked to the ceiling.

"Hey Jarvis, can you please turn off Stark's alarm clock and make sure he sleeps a minimum of eight hours?"

"Certainly, Captain. If I may ask, what are you planning on doing that I may have an updated place to tell the team if summoned?"

Steve gave Jarvis a tired smirk and headed for Tony's door. "I'll be in the gym."

"Thank you, Captain."

Steve left the bedroom with Tony's snores getting increasing smaller behind him. He had long sense stopped being jealous over his friends ability to sleep. It was pointless worrying about the lack he was getting, then the inability to fall back asleep after waking up. So Steve went to the gym and started his day. It was ten 'til three, so he had about three hours before Tasha would wake up and two before Clint would come back. Steve started to make a plan for the day as he walked into the elevator the Jarvis had waiting for him, and looked through the open back at the rising sun.

 **Thank you for reading and being so patient! I think I'm going to make two more chapters for this one then I'm moving to something else. Poor Steve… Thanks again!**


	6. Stay

**A/N: Okey-dokey, this one and then the finale! Thank you guys for reading I really appreciate all the follower, comments, and favorites! But for right now, here is the Winter Soldier.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are strictly Marvel's and Stan Lee's, I only borrow them for the entertainment of myself, as a writer, and you as a reader.**

James Buchanan Barnes that was his name. Or at least what the other people at SHIELD and here in this Tower told him was his name. He was the Winter Soldier, created by Department X to be a Soviet Assassin who never fought against the orders he was given. He had once had a life that didn't involve killing, but what little of it he could recall were all distorted images. Now he had very little association with the world. The only goal he had once had before finding his true identity was to kill Captain America.

No, not Captain America, Steve Rogers.

The only man who had pulled him out of his hellish nightmare and gave him a second chance at life. The only man who let James torment his body to that limit and still called the same man friend. The only man that ever had hope in him even after all those years of thinking him dead.

Bucky could not think of any other person on the earth or in any other galaxy who would do something like this for him. And now that he thought about, he probably never would find someone like that. Not after all the things that he had done. As soon as he got back to the Avengers Tower that afternoon, all the man wanted to do was sleep.

The new SHIELD head of command Agent Maria Hill—at least that was what Bucky thought she was called, because many people have called her by many other names—has not been so welcome on the lines of accepting the ex-soldier's good side. Over the past week, James had been subjected to tests, exams, needles, and almost every other form of mind probe and inspection to test his mental and emotion state. If it weren't for the fact that he would be seen as a human being and not a threat to the world, James would have left the situation a while ago!

He knew how to disappear, that he was trained for, but the things that SHIELD were having him do would be considered torture to some degree. So when he had finished with all the tests and was passed with a relatively "clean" bill, James was finally allowed to leave the helicarrier and join the civilian world.

Steve was waiting for him outside the layered steel door on the outside of the testing wing. A big smile plastered on his face as he pushed himself off the wall and stepped toward him. Not even out of his patriotic uniform, Steve stood a few feet away from James and just looked him over as if he was searching for something. Bucky squirmed under the Super Soldier's blue gaze, never meeting his eyes as if too scared to see what the other man was thinking.

The hall remained silent except for the occasion whir and click of the former Winter Soldier's arm. The stupid thing was never quiet, but at this moment, Bucky didn't mind the light noises that it was making. Steve cleared his throat and Bucky could see from his peripheral vision that he had brought his hand up to the back of his neck, an old habit that he always had when they were younger. _Wait, did he just remember that? Was that not one of the memories that the laboratory scientist neglected to erase?_

Bucky looked up and saw Steve rubbing his neck and looking everywhere but at him _. Yep, that was Steve alright._ As if finally noticing that he had Bucky's attention, Steve lowered his eyes to the man who was just within arms' reach. He cleared his throat again then spoke," Hey, Bucky."

James resisted the urge to tilt his head to the side as he watched his friend from another time period. Thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to find the right words to say. _When did you get so big? What happened all these years? How are we still alive? What happens now? Why do you still want me?_ But none of these words left his lips. Instead Bucky just remained silent and let his eyes follow the Soldier before him.

"Well, uh,' Steve voice cracked a little, 'they said that I could take you to the Tower now." Steve lowered his hand from the back of his neck and stood shoulders slouched in front of Bucky.

That was when the assassin noticed something. It turns out that all those years of watching people actually became beneficial outside the scope of a sniper rifle. Here stood the great American Dream in a state of pure and utter exhaustion. The man was practically a walking zombie! The deep blue of his uniform doing nothing to bring color to his pale skin. Once light blue and energetic eyes looked foggy and dull with his once bright blonde hair falling limply wherever it lay. And the bags that were once covered by his cowl looked deep enough to be bruises!

This wasn't the same man who fought him in the belly of that plane, or even on the streets of Brooklyn trying to tackle boys three times his size! What had happened to this lone eagle over the course of these year, Bucky didn't know. But if he had a _team_ to lead and _see_ on a daily basis, why did they not notice this before?

Bucky's eyes squinted at the edges as he watched the "Super" Soldier fight back a yawn. If he didn't feel like talking, he at least needed to humor the man and go wherever it is he wants to take him.

"Okay." Bucky internally winced at the sound of his own voice. It was deep and sounded as if he had gargled pebbles for about twenty years.

Regardless, Steve perked up at the sound and that brought some of the light into his tired eyes. "Well, uhm, great! So just follow me, and then I can get you home and show you around?"

Bucky nodded, then followed Steve down the hall and out of the helicarrier. The man talking all the way about the Avengers Tower and describing its occupancy, none of whom were present when the pilot landed the small jet onto the landing dock on the building's roof. He stepped out of the jet first, while Steve talked to the pilot for a minute. James went over to the edge of the roof and looked over the city that had changed so much over the decades. If it weren't for the fact that he had been here before when his orders were to exterminate Fury and Captain America, Bucky was positive that he would not have recognized the place.

He remained at the edge as the jet took off and Steve's footsteps drew near. Steve came to a stop just to his left and looked over the city with him. "Everything has changed since our time. I almost couldn't believe that it was the same city when I woke up."

Bucky turned to face him, raising one brown eyebrow. Steve just waved his hand as if shooing away a cob web, "I'll tell you that story later. Come on, I'll show you around." Turning on his heel, Steve walked to the door leading into the Tower and the new life that Bucky was about to live. Taking one last glance over the noisy and metal jungle, Bucky backed away from the edge and followed Steve inside.

-AVENGERS-

And that leaves Bucky to where he is now. Steve had given him the tour of the Tower, should him his floor—which was a level below Steve's, and helped him get settled. But despite all of the activities in the monstrous building, James just stayed in his room.

Everything was too new, to shiny, to real for him to connect at the moment. He had just left a war zone and come to civilization! So all of these things would take some getting used to. Steve had told him that the rest of the team were in other places, but they would all be back within the week. All the while Steve was giving him the tour, Bucky spotted every single micro-camera in the corners of every room. He understood why they didn't trust him with their Captain, and Bucky accepted that with full understanding. He was happy that they at least didn't bug his room.

So there he sat in one of the two sofa chairs in the bedroom. His duffel of donated clothes on the floor by the dresser, blank white walls facing him in every direction (except for the floor to ceiling windows behind him), the bed remained untouched, all the lights were off and the bright red numbers on the alarm clock glaring at him in the dark room.

Bucky could still hear the world around him as he brought his sweatpants clad knees up to his bare chest, wrapped his arms around them, then buried his face into the soft fiber. Only the lights from the city and the red alarm covered the room as the City that Never Sleeps meet a confused man.

Steve was sitting at the dining room table in his apartment trying to work on his latest sketch. It was getting harder, and harder for him to concentrate long enough to finish this one than it normally would on any given day. He had been going strong a day or two after the incident with Tony and Thor, but now the effects of sleep deprivation were getting to the Super Soldier a lot faster than he wanted it to.

He was just happy that the rest of the team hadn't caught on, but when he brought Bucky home today, he knew that the jig was up. Steve had tried to avoid the other man's brown gaze for as long as possible, but even when he was brain-washed, Bucky could still see right through to the heart of a situation. It was just a matter of if he killed the heart first.

Steve dropped his pencil on the half drawn image and brought his hands up to his face, vigorously rubbing at his eyes. He just wanted to get this one image done so that Bucky's room didn't look so…cold.

Propping his elbow on the hard mahogany, Steve removed his hands and winced as light splotches dances in front of his vision. _When was the last time he had slept anyway?_

He moved his palms to either side of his head and thought about the question, but when his mind wouldn't function he sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Hey Jarvis, when was the last time I slept?" knowing that it was only him and Buck in the Tower, and that there was no one there to see him, Steve let out a huge yawn, folded his arms on the cool table's surface, then placed his head on them.

Jarvis answered almost immediately. "The last record time of your sleep patterns were on Friday between the hours of 8 PM and 1AM. You have currently been awake for an average of 149 hours, 8 minutes, and 38 seconds."

Steve moaned, "Is that including the times that I slept since Buc- erm, James's arrival?"

"Yes, Captain. You have slept a total of 38. 5 hours since Mr. Barnes's arrival, but my sensors do not count the "cat naps" as adequate rest Captain. According to the latest health physician, it would take a regular man to years to regain a normal sleeping pattern. Unless he did not die from cardiac arrest after the first two weeks."

Steve winced and lifted his head enough to glare at the ceiling," Really, Jarvis?"

"My apologies, Captain. Sir did program me with an honesty sensor to answer him in both sarcastic and logical progression of thought. Would you wish for me to give you the sarcastic approach?"

Steve was confused, and shook his head. Not really caring if the AI could see him or not. He sat up the rest of the way and looked around his living space. The room was customized to how it would have appeared in the 1980s but with a modern twist. All the kitchen appliances were modern for 2015, but the living room had a small box TV which Tony had somehow tweaked to receive all of the up-to-date TV shows. Tall book shelves surrounded the living room space, filled with all the books that seemed interesting to the man.

The couches were floral print and arranged around a plain tan carpet. His bedroom was pretty much to the same, but simpler. He had a **huge** —Tony's idea—bed on the left hand side of the door with plain white blankets. A hard wooden dresser was on the opposite wall and in the corner stood an easel and various other art supplies. The floor to ceiling windows gave Steve a perfect view of the New York skyline with a balcony for him to walk out on in ideal weather. Pictures of every medium were hung on every available space of wall whether framed or open.

His apartment was plain, but Steve liked it that way. And that was why he was so bent on helping Bucky settle in, at least until he had the clearance to live anywhere else in the city. Steve looked down on the sketch of the vary man in his Army uniform smirking up from the paper. This was one of the good times that Steve remembered Bucky before the war, but right now, his mind just didn't want to focus.

Steve sighed and got up from his chair. He grabbed the sketch book and went to the hallway connecting his floor to the stairwell. Since he couldn't concentrate, or bear to be alone, he was going to go and check on Bucky.

He understood that if he really needed help he would find Steve, but at the same time, Steve knew just how stubborn Bucky was when it came to getting help. As he walked down the stair, he faintly remembered the time when they were in the orphanage and Buck had dislocated his shoulder trying to wrestle with one of the other boys. He had never gone to any of the adults in the boardinghouse to set it, and even went as far as trying to hide it from him! So when Steve saw his struggling to put his shirt on one morning, then saw the deep bruising that was centered on the area. HE confronted his friend until he got the answer.

By the time he got the story, it had already been a week since it happened. Which meant that when he was able to persuade Bucky to see the doctor to get it set, it hurt even more to fix it. Steve walked up to the door on James's floor and opened it. He then started to head toward the living area in the other man's apartment.

Steve was surprised to see all the lights off in the rooms as he walked around, trying not to trip over stuff. He wanted to call out Buck's name, but saw the door open in the bedroom area move before he opened his mouth. So Steve started to walk over to the room and once he reached in slowly pushed the door open.

Bucky heard Steve come into the room before he saw him. He knew that the man would come and check on him eventually, so when he heard the silent grumbles and frantic footsteps, Bucky took off a sock, balled it up, and used his flesh arm to toss it at the door. The last thing he needed was for the sock to make a huge whole in the wood surface because of his metallic left arm.

He knew that Steve had heard his acknowledgment when his footsteps drew near and he peeked his head inside the dark room. Bucky lifted his head enough to peer at Steve over his folded arms and let the man come in. He didn't turn on the lights, sit on the bed, or spoke as he walked to the middle of the room carrying what Bucky assumed was a sketch pad.

Steve stood there for a minute and just looked around his room in curiosity, then moved his gaze to Bucky.

The Winter Soldier quirked one eyebrow at the Captain in question.

Steve cleared his throat, "I just wanted to check and make sure that you were okay? And if you minded company?"

Bucky squinted at him for a second, then shrugged his shoulders and buried his head into his knees again. Steve took the motion as a go ahead and seated himself in the other sofa chair on the other side of the room, pencil scratching quietly on the rough paper surface.

They stayed like that in the awkward silence for a minute, neither knowing quite what to say. The Eagle and his paper, and the wolf in his den. Until Bucky started to shift into a more comfortable position in the chair. He turned so that his back was lying against the left arm of the chair with his head and short pony tail dangling over the side of the arm. His right leg and bare foot stretched on the opposite side facing Steve, while the left remained under his butt in the seat. Bucky crossed his cold left arm over his right on his chest and turned his head to look out the window.

It was only 10:30, but the city lights and motion made it look like noon with all the activity. Steve's pencil took a momentary pause on whatever it was he was working on as he too directed his gaze to the city. Bucky watched him from the corner of his vision. Now he could clearly see the effects of exhaustion on his friend's body.

It seemed that under the active city lights, Steve's inner light shone less brightly. Bucky opened his mouth his mouth to speak, but closed it still unsure of what to say. Steve turned to look at him expectantly and waited for him patiently.

Bucky tried again, this time with more success. "You know there's a bed in here right?"

Steve chuckled and turned back to the widow. "Yeah, I know, but you should be the one sleeping in it right now. Not me."

Bucky's eyes turned back to the window. "I'm not tired."

He caught the smirk that went across Steve's face in the corner of his vision. "I know, but you should still try to sleep anyway. When everyone else comes back, you'll want to have a few hours' sleep under you belt."

"They can't be anything I can't handle."

"I know, but it still doesn't hurt."

Bucky snorted, "Same goes for you."

Steve stiffened from the opposite side of the room, but he didn't say anything else as he turned his gaze back to his paper. "I knew that you would notice."

Bucky turned his head back to Steve, "I take it that no one else has?"

Steve shook his head, then brought his right hand up and slide it down his face. "Nope, but that's okay. I just want them to get adequate rest. I sleep every now and then, so I can function. But right now, I'm fine." HE looked over at Bucky and tried to read his expression, but gave up after a time.

James continued to watch him for a minute and gave him a look before turning back to the window. His eyes were feeling droopy now that Steve mentioned sleep, but…he didn't want to slip into the realm of unconsciousness knowing that when he did there was the possibility of waking up in the Department X lab.

"They won't get you here."

Buck's eyes opened. _When had he closed them anyway?_ "Hm?"

"They won't get you here, in the Tower I mean. You are secure and Jarvis will tell you if there is an intruder in the building."

Steve's voice was soft, as if he knew that Bucky was trying to fight sleep but only managed to lull him further into the arms of unconsciousness. James remembered this Jarvis thing being the Avengers AI, but nothing more. He let his eyes slip closed again as Steve's pencil began to scratch on the paper.

"If you want me to go, I will. I just wanted to-"

Bucky cut him off. "Stay."

Steve said no more, but Bucky could practically see the smirk that was on Steve's lips through his closed eyes. Right now, Steve was the only person here that he felt like he could start to trust. And the only person he felt even the slightest bit comfortable enough to stay in the room with him while he dozed. It was almost like how they were in the orphanage. Steve was the light sleeper, and Bucky the heavy one. So if he was going to get any sleep, he wanted that same kid there with him for a few hours.

So there they were, both soldiers in a safe room. One drawing the memories of the past, and the other reliving them one wink at a time.

 **A/N: Thank you for reading! This chapter took me a bit to write, because Bucky is just complicated because of what the Soviets did to him in the movie and comic book. So I hope you guys liked it and I got the personalities right… *smiles* Feel free to fav, follow, and all that jazz. I will try to do the final chapter for this story soon, but no promises… Thank you and Merry Christmas!**


	7. Saving a Brother

**Steve- Saving a Brother**

 **A/N: Final Chapter! I hope that you guys all liked the story so far, because it was really fun to write it! Uhm, I have more ideas for other adventures starring the Avengers, but I want to reach out into other domains first. I can write an epilogue—if you all want it—about Clint, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, and Tony's reactions regarding the various states of their alarm clocks. But I leave that one up to you! I really hope that this final chapter ties it off for you and that you had just as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are strictly Marvel's and Stan Lee's, I only borrow them for the entertainment of myself, as a writer, and you as a reader.**

Steve could feel the rough surface of the concrete underneath him as his captors dragged him away from his hideout. He had been undercover doing a SHIELD mission when the small group of Hydra copy cats took him. Needless to say, Steve did not go down without a fight, but when all the factors were stacked up against him, there was no way he would have won this time.

He had broken his record for days without sufficient rest. And if one did calculate the total amount of hours he did sleep from those he didn't, most people would have restrained him and given the Captain a sedative by now. It was in this instance that his serum enhanced senses could not keep him safe on the field. And the only thing that went across Steve's mind while he was being attacked by the huge group of agents, was that _at least no one but him will get hurt_.

* * *

Bucky didn't know what was worse, that fact that Earth's Mightiest Heroes were a wreck trying to find Steve, or the fact that they still hadn't found him. His eyes were the only part of him that moved as he sat on the corner of the sofa and watched the movements of everyone in the room as the situation gradually got worse.

"He was supposed to be back a _four days_ ago! Steve is never late for anything! Heck! He isn't even late to wake up and take a dump at zero dark thirty! Or to get a cat out of a tree for some spoiled brat on the street! Where the heck is he?!" Tony hollered at Jarvis because he was the only one that Tony could vent to without the fear of breaking something.

The poor AI had endured the brunt of Tony's venting for the past few days, seemed frazzled with trying to both find the missing hero and calm his creator. "I am not sure of the Captain's whereabouts, Sir. At the moment I have hacked into almost every router on the internet and electronic device to find his location."

"Well try harder!" Tony growled, before continuing his pacing around the coffee table in the middle of the room. Bucky wasn't entirely sure if he meant to sound harsh to Jarvis, but like he had just said, Steve had been gone for four days over his time in undercover co-ops for SHIELD. That to the Avengers seemed like a life time, and to him…it practically was one.

* * *

The group had overwhelming numbers. For every two Steve knocked out, five more would take their place. And the numbers just kept steadily growing until one of the agents was able to get close enough behind him and taze the back of his neck, thoroughly rendering him unconscious.

The American symbol of hope went down in a pile of limp limbs as Hydra swarmed him with their many tentacles. They manacled his appendages and carried him like a prized deer kill and took him to their base.

He couldn't feel anything from the time that the one lucky soldier got him, but when Steve woke up, he knew that nothing but a world of pain was meant to follow. As he was being dragged, he had overheard one of the copy catters discussing how they could get noticed by Hydra and finally be accepted into their ranks to join the cause. The men that were carrying him underneath his arms, relinquished their hold and let Cap fall face first onto the harsh concrete. A startled and pained yelp escaped him on impact, but the men made no move to help him. They just continued with on with their conversation like he had made no noise at all.

Steve cracked open his eye that wasn't on the cement and looked around the room. There were guards everywhere.

Men decked out in rarely expensive battle armor and bullet proof vests lined the walls in what Steve assumed was an abandoned military base. He assumed that he was still in Germany, based on the men's' remarks and bouncing back and forth in German and English. Continuing to let his eyes roam over the room, Steve found a seemingly unguarded hallway in a corner on the far left. _Of course it would be that far away…nothing is ever that simple._

Steve started to devise a plan that either one of two things: A) he would be able to escape through that hallway and find a way out. Or B) he would get shot by one of the many loaded guns aimed in his direction from every possible corner of the room. He lifted his head up in the slightest motion to make it seem like he was trying to take a breath—which he was due to the fact that he broke his nose on impact, but they didn't need any further indication as to what he was really doing—and looked back at the men still talking a few feet away. With his head now on the opposite side, he counted five guards on the first level and watched their movement patterns. Every ten minutes, one guard would move and alleviate the one the one that was standing there previously. The one who was relieved would go through a hallway on the opposite side of either wall and disappear.

It was the exact same for the other side, so that lead to the conclusion that it would be the same for all four walls of the building. Steve did the math quickly in his head, the trained Army strategies and Avengers' leader coming out in full swing. _There are five guards on each of the four walls in the building. That means that every ten minutes a new guard would either come in or switch spaces with another man or woman from one of the other sides. All together there are at least twenty armed soldiers on all four corners, but every ten minutes there are twenty four until the relieved officer goes through the opening. If those men try to come back and grab me before taking me to another room, I have about two to five minutes to get out of their grip, run to the hall, and sprint for an exit. Piece of cake, maybe._

Steve continued to lay there and rehearse the plan in his mind as the guards broke apart and two burly ones came toward him.

* * *

Tony grew more anxious by the second as he continued to make a race track in his satin carpet. He stopped pacing for a moment and temporarily quite stabbing his fingers through his hair to glance around the room. Clint was throwing darts into the dart board adjacent the kitchen entrance with ferocity usually reserved for the enemy. Bruce had his head on the table his hands laced behind his head while his thumbs visible moved beneath his curly locks. Thor sat at the kitchen table looking depressed. Pepper was actually _yelling_ at someone on the phone in Korean. Natasha was sitting opposite the end of the sofa occupied by Bucky glaring a hole in the wall. And the former Winter Soldier himself sat with his arms around his legs and head in his hands, looking dead center at him.

Well, _looking_ was not essentially what he was doing, Tony corrected himself. James was more or less glaring pointed little daggers at the billionaire with the ferocity and deathliness of one of Clint's arrows or Natasha's knives. Tony looked behind him to make sure that the assassin was indeed staring at him before turning back to the man with an arched eyebrow.

"What do you want Terminator? I already apologized for not oiling up your hinges."

Everyone in the room turned to look at the two, making Tony feel even more anxious and angrier. He was wasting time with someone who probably didn't give a rat's butt about Steve, when he could be telling Jarvis to look in other places for a signal.

"You don't know do you?"

The team sent Bucky confused looks before looking at each other. The other two assassins shared a private communication with glances as Clint sent his last dart to the bull's eye and went over to the center of the action. "Don't know what?"

Pepper hung up just as Bruce got up from his chair to the center of the room, Thor stayed where he was at the table.

"How exhausted your "beloved" Captain is." Bucky gritted his teeth and gave everyone in the room the same look he had just given Tony. "He hasn't slept in ages."

Tony snorted and crossed his arms over his chest in defiance. "Yeah, right. He goes to bed at the same time, if not earlier than we do! If anything, we should be the tired ones! You come back here for all of two weeks and you are telling us,' Tony gestured toward the others in the room,' that Steve is tired?"

Bucky dropped his legs to the floor and stood up from the couch, taking measured steps toward Stark. Natasha got up and went to stand behind Tony on the right, while Clint took the left. Bruce put an arm out to protect Pepper, his eyes already showing flashes of green. Thor still remained at the table.

"Yes. Some team you are for not noticing that he hasn't slept properly in _months_ and none of you have ever noticed. My first day here, I saw the exhaustion that he was hiding without having to be an assassin." Bucky stopped a foot away from Tony, his voice deepening as his anger steadily grew. This group, _Steve's_ _team_ , had neglected to take care of their leader. When he knew without a doubt that Steve took care of them. What little he remembered from his past before becoming the Winter Soldier was full of such times as Steve tried to take care of him even when the kid looked to be on death's door! And this insolent group of people never saw the façade that Steve surrounded himself with!

Tony's expression was red with rage as he began shouting at the man not a foot away from him. "HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE US FOR NOT TAKING CARE OF HIM! AS I RECALL, WE WEREN'T THE ONES WHO BEAT HIM TO A BLOODY PULP AND SHOT HIM OUT OF A FREAKING PLANE WHEN HE WAS TRYING TO HELP US!"

Bucky's mechanical fingers ground against his palm as he once again took on the mask of the Winter Soldier. "Say that again and I will rip the core from your chest."

Tony smirked, "Which part? The one about the bloody pulp, or the plane?"

Bucky lounged at Tony, but was blocked from grabbing his throat by a muscular chest blocking the smaller man.

* * *

Steve's plan was set in motion the moment the two men none-so-gently picked him up off the floor. He slightly opened his eyes to see that they were taking him through a different door. Now it was time for him to act.

Steve applied his Army training knowledge from the 1940s to aid him in a hopeful escape. He made his toes point down on the cement, making the sole of his tracked boots connect with the surface enough to halt the soldiers' progress. This caused the men to stumble which was just what the Super Soldier needed to shoulder the one on his right in the gut and head butt the one on the left.

 _Two minutes_.

Steve turned and ran for the other exit because now men were coming from the door that he would have gone into a moment before. But he kept running anyway.

 _Three minutes_.

Shouts were going up in German as a shower of bullets rained on the Captain, many hitting their target but he still ran anyway.

 _Four minutes._

But he never made it to the hallway entrance. Steve watched in slow motion as a lemon shaped object hurtled toward him. His mind was to animate with adrenaline to register the danger that we was in until the grenade went off.

He was sent flying into the wall on the side he was trying to escape through. Blinding hot pain radiated through his body, every limb burned with ferocity equal to a thousand suns before meeting the icy cold wall and concrete. Whatever bone wasn't broken, or piece of flesh without blemished was nothing but a pulsing blot on Steve's body.

 _Six minutes._

Steve slumped over and landed on the scorched flesh on his back, but he didn't notice the pain because it was just everywhere.

 _Eight minutes._

He lay there, unable to breathe as his broken ribs grated against each other in his chest. Blood flooded from his mouth, nose, and ears that never stopped ringing. The sounds of people scuffling around him was apparent, but now he could feel nothing.

 _Twelve minutes._

Steve could feel the exhaustion of several months of sleep creep up on him as the world faded to darkness. Except this time…he didn't stop it from coming.*

* * *

Bucky was utterly surprised when the massive wall of flesh blocked him from strangling Tony. And he was even more surprised when that mass of flesh turned out to be the god of thunder. He never knew a man of his size being able to move that fast, or the quietly given his naturally loud nature.

"ENOUGH!" Point taken. "This animosity has gone on for far too long, my comrades! But alas, the Man with the Metal Arm doth speaks the truth."

Everyone, including Bucky, looked at Thor as he lowered his head and stepped from between the two men who were looking at him in both shock, and for Bucky, relief. Bruce scratched his head, "Now I'm confused. Are you seriously saying that Steve has not been sleeping for _months_? Thor, I don't know how it is on Asgard, but even with the Super Serum, that cannot not be physically _possible_!"

Tony looked heartbroken," Yeah, and when do you stand up for Joshua here, from Ricki and the Flash!"

Thor and Bucky gave him a look. "I do not understand that reference."

"That's not the point, Thor,'Natasha spoke up from her position beside Tony, 'how long have you known about this? And why have you not pointed it out before today?"

Thor looked up and glared everyone down under his now unnaturally blue eyes. "I have noticed the difference in our Captain the night that Son of Stark was trying to use me as a so called "human battery". "

Tony looked flabbergasted," AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME!"

"DON'T YOU USE THAT TONE WITH ME, SON OF STARK! IT WAS YOU WHO WERE INTOXICATED ON THE COFFEE AND SLEEP DEPREVATION THAT OUR CAPTAIN HAD TO CARRY YOU TO YOUR QUARTERS TO GET SUFFICIENT REST! IT WAS HE WHO WOKE UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT TO ENSURE THAT ALL OF YOU WERE NOT AWOKEN BY STARK'S EXPERIMENT! AND IT WAS I,' Thor lowered his voice,' who also didn't notice the effect that this tole cost on his health until today. We are all to blame here, whether we wish to acknowledge our faults or not. The Man of One Arm, noticed our Captain's decline months after the harm was done. And now we are here."

Pepper brought her hand up to cover her mouth as she wept into her palm. Silvery tears cascading down her cheeks until Bruce brought her to his shoulder and slowly rubbed her back in small comforting circles.

The entire room fell silent as everyone realized the costly mistake that would more than likely lead to the death of their teammate. No one moved from their spot on the carpet, Thor looking at the white material in mourning. Pepper sniffling, still in Bruce's firm hold. Natasha and Clint now shoulder to shoulder refusing to look at one another for fear of revealing how they were both feeling. Bucky continued to look at Thor in utter surprise and fear for his long ago friend. And Tony just glued his eyes to the far window and watched the lights play out from the city buildings all around them, this was their fault.

As if hesitant to disturb the moment, Jarvis very hesitantly addressed Tony in a voice that sounded oddly more human that machine. "Sir?"

Tony's eyes never left the windows as he nodded his head for Jarvis to continue, knowing full and well that the AI would pick it up on the motion sensor built into his programing.

"I have found a message chat on the dark web referencing to Captain Rogers in an abandoned military base in Germany. How do you wish to proceed?"

Everyone's attention shot toward the ceiling. "You found him?" Clint practically shouted, praising the Man Upstairs for letting this happen.

"Yes, Agent Barton, I have found his cordinance, but the activity in the encampment seems rather odd. Our satellite imaging has found activity along the lines of explosives inside the building's structure."

"Regardless, it's a lead,' Tony turned and looked at everyone in the room. With Steve gone, he was in the lead until their Captain was safe and sound. 'Jarvis, start the quinjet. Avengers, suite up. We're going to take down those sons of ***** and bring our Steve home. Everyone went into a states of organized chaos as they proceeded to get Cap. Tony went over to Pepper and kissed her forehead, while she burrowed her head into the crook of his neck. He whispered assurances into her ear before letting her go and heading for the stair to get the Mark 33 before he noticed that Bucky hadn't moved. Without skipping a beat, he yelled over his shoulder to the Winter Soldier, 'Come on Mad Max, we'll need all the help we can get."

Then Tony bolted down the stairs, knowing that Bucky would be ready by the time they got in the jet and booked it the Germany.

-AVENGERS-

Once they landed in Germany, there was no force on earth or in any other realm of the galaxy that would be able to contain the fury of the Avengers. Tony had split the team in groups to allow the best chance of 1) getting Steve out—alive, 2) making sure that everyone was safe and well protected, and 3) they would all be able to repay the damage that they had done to Cap. Hulk and Thor were the powerhouses who took the middle of the battle, Hawkeye and Ironman blasted and shot at whoever they saw and stragglers that just so happened to escape Hulk and Thor. While the Black Widow and Winter Soldier stormed the castle and grabbed their friend. No one kept track of how long they were fighting, but when the woods was nothing more than craters, body parts, and the four of them, they too went inside to find Steve. It didn't take them long, Tasha had "interrogated" one of the officers then shamelessly broken his neck in one quickly motion before looking back on the boys. "WS went to get him after we found his location. He's this way." Natasha took off at a dead sprint and really caring if the others were able to keep up with her.

By the time they got to the door, they found Bucky punching the lock mechanism trying to pry the stupid door open. "He's in here!" He grunted as he stepped away upon seeing Hulk gravitate to the door. Contrary to some people's belief, Hulk is not a mindless green body builder. When one of his family is in trouble, he was more than a force to be reckoned with.

He shoved his huge hands into both sides of the door and pried it effortlessly off of its hinges. Then stepped back to let his smaller companions enter the room before relinquishing his control to Bruce.

The sight of the man before them would leave them all with nightmares.

Steve lay adjacent to the wall with the door in a crimpled heap on the floor surrounded by a pool of his own blood. His suite was beyond torn and revealed every wound that was inflicted on his body. His face was a mass of bruises and disfigure features half of the damage was hard to discern because of the scarlet liquid glistening menacingly on his face. He was nothing but a massive bruise covered in an uncountable mass of cuts and gashes that still sluggishly oozed blood. Various bones jutted out from under his skin as if he were a hilly pasture, and others were a stark white from some of his more easily breakable appendages. Burns practically covered every surface in layers of dark flakey skin or revealed the muscle and bone in some areas. Shrapnel from the supposed explosive that Jarvis had detected earlier lay all around him and in his body in a gory variation of connect the dots.

No one dared at first to move closer thinking, no, _knowing_ that they had come too late. Natasha turned and left the room in favor of sitting outside the entrance, Clint followed her out. Bucky went over to the prone figure of his friend and knelt in front of him, not at all caring if his blood soaked through the knees of his pants. Bruce touched Tony's shoulder before going outside too, but Tony remained there. He lifted up his face plate and looked at the display before him. Steve was never too late for them, but the one time he needed them…they let him down.

Tony stood there in the quiet of the room and wept silently for the loss of his friend. And brother.

* * *

Bucky kneeled in front of Steve without moving. He knew that Tony was the only one still in the room, but he still didn't trust the man enough to let him see the weakness in his eyes. He reached out his left arm and gently ran his fingers through Steve's blood soaked hair. Memories were all he had of this man now. This legend.

The one who still had faith in him in his darkest hour. The one who would always pick fights he would never win. Bucky closed his eyes, hiding the tears wanting to fall and let his head drop until his fore head touched the space where Steve's heart was beating and felt the steady rhythm against his skin. That's when he realized that something wasn't adding up here. Why was his heart beating? Not that he wanted his to be dead or anything! Then Bucky felt the very slow and grinding movement of Steve's chest rising up once then down twice, in a very unsteady and off balanced motion.

Bucky's head shot up and scanned over his friend's form. _Is this really happening?_ Hesitantly bringing his right hand up to the area of Steve's neck were his pulse should reside, Bucky pressed down and waited for the sign that meant there was still hope for the group.

That was when he felt the thread, but very much present pulse of Steve Rogers. Bucky laughed a true genuine sounding laugh as he called everyone back into the room. Bruce immediately settled down next the Winter Soldier and placed his hand where Bucky had just removed his. Bruce sighed in relief and told Natasha to hand him his medical bag just outside the doorway.

Bucky got up and moved from the Doctor and the other two assassin's way so that they could treat their comrade before transport. He stepped back and stood close, but not to close, to Tony who hadn't uttered a word since this discovery.

"He's alive." Tony's voice was a mere whisper compared to his usually boisterous personality.

"We made it just in time." Bucky's eyes never left Steve as Thor scooped him up bridal style and hurriedly walked to the quinjet. They all knew that Steve had a long road to recovery, but they would be there every step of the way.

* * *

Steve opened his eyes to the dark room around him. He wasn't certain as to where he was, but his fact that there were soft silken sheets beneath his body didn't bother him a bit. He used his enhanced hearing to try and figure out where he was, and to his surprise, he actually recognized the place.

The busy cars on the streets of New York were once again honking in their usual way. The light being cast by the outside world, illuminated the room revealing the many hand drawn sketches that always occupied the walls. The classic wooden dresser was on the left side, a picture of Peggy, Bucky, and his team smiling back at him whenever he went to change. The comfy lounge chair right beside his bed with a frowning Natasha looking over him.

Now that part caught him off guard.

Steve nearly jumped out of the bed, but stopped with a muffled scream as his many injuries made themselves know with his sudden movements. He knew that this couldn't have been a dream, because how else would Natasha be here! But at the same time, how could she have gotten him out of the military building with God knows how many armed men. Tasha reached out her hands and gently ran her fingers through Steve's hair while the other pushed him back down.

She got up from the chair and gently deposited herself on Steve's bed in a way that would not jar his injuries. The Black Widow gently wiped away the stray tears that fell from his eyes as she continued to shush him and murmur endearments in Russian. When Steve had a better grasp on his pain, he cracked open his eyes and looked at the woman.

Tasha was wearing her usual black sleep shorts and red tank top that she used for sleepwear, her hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail that only the Avengers had the liberty of seeing. Seeing her in clothing made Steve blush as he realized that the only thing he had on were bandages and a really thin blanket.

Natasha laughed as she reached over a pulled a small cloth from the nightstand and gently dabbed at Steve's damp forehead. The cool towel was pleasant against his burning skin. "You're safe now, Steve."

"Bu—" Steve's voice cracked and he tried to swallow, only to find that there was no saliva in his mouth to give the desired relief that he needed. Sensing this, Natasha produced a cup of water with a straw and gingerly lifted Steve's head so he could get a drink. He slurped the water down eagerly, and almost whined when she took it away.

"Sorry, but Bruce said that too much at one time would make you sick." She helped him lay back down and then began to card her fingers through his hair again.

Steve cleared his throat, attempting for the second time to speak. "How did you guys find me?" Breathing and talking was hard, but he still wanted to hear his teammate's voice. Just to be sure that this was all still real.

"Jarvis,' was her one word reply as her hand dropped from his head to the bandages covering his neck. There was very little of Steve that wasn't covered in gauze due to the bullet and shrapnel wounds all over his body and the countless other wounds he had endured. But Natasha put that aside for now in favor of smiling as Steve's eyes began to flutter with drowsiness.

She moved her finger gently over his neck until he closed his eyes and drifted off into oblivion. However, she still had one more mission to accomplish before leaving the room. Looking at the practically empty nightstand, Natasha Romanoff found the alarm button and switched it off, leaving the numbers to display, but the sound of an annoying beep would not wake their Captain today.

Once she was positive he was asleep, Tasha gracefully got up and left the room and its sleeping occupant behind. It would be a while before Steve heals physically, maybe even a bit longer for him to mentally. But now whenever they saw their Captain, they made sure he was well taken care of…even if it means hitting the snooze button.

 **A/N: Okay, here is the final chapter! Sorry it's so long…they wouldn't shut up! What do you guys think? I hope you all liked it and thank you soooo much for reading them! Steve finally gets rest, the team is whole, and now the story ends. If you guys don't mind, though…how did I do on the action part? I am not entirely sure if I got it right this time, but please let me know if there is something I need to fix! I am going to bed now…So, thanks again! -WM**


End file.
